UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLIK,, 

School  of  Library 

Science 

3'H 


I 


SIX    FAIRY    PLAYS 
F©R    CHILDREN 


For  permission  to  act  any  of  these  plays 
in  public  (that  is,  where  money,  either  for 
programmes  or  for  admission,  is  taken) 
application  must  be  made  to  the  publishers 
(John  Lane  The  Bodley  Head  Ltd.). 

The  fee  for  each  of  such  performances  is 
Five  Shillings. 

Music  for  the  plays  by  Dalhousie  Young 
is  published  by  Messrs.  Joseph  Williams, 
Limited,  32  Great  Portland  Street,  London, 
W.l. 


SIX  FAIRY  PLAYS 
F©R   CHILDREN    by 

NETTA    SYRETT    ^     ^     ^ 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1903 
By    John    Lane 

All  rights  reserved 


First  Published         ....     August      1903 

Reprinted  .....     December  1903 

Reprinted  ....     July,  December  1906 

Reprinted  .         ,         .       September,  December  1907 

Reprinted  .....     November  1910 

Reprinted  .....     October       1912 

Reprinted  .....     October      1914 

Reprinted  .....     February  1919 

Reprinted  .....     November  1920 

Reprinted  .....     /tt£y           1921 

Reprinted  .....     November  1922 


Made  and  Printed  in  Great  Britain  by 
Butler  &  Tanner  Ltd.,  Frome  and  London 


CHRISTIAN,    EUGENIE,   JANET, 

AND    MARJORIE 

THE   GIRLS  FOR  WHOM   I  WROTE 

"THE    DREAM-LADY" 


803692 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hil 


http://archive.org/details/sixfairyplaysforOOsyre 


PREFACE 

This  little  book  is  intended  for  the  not  inconsider- 
able number  of  people  who  are  at  a  loss  to  find 
modern  plays  suited  to  the  abilities  of  children  and 
scarcely  grown-up  girls.  In  the  hope  that  they  may 
be  useful  in  girls'  schools,  I  have  taken  care  to 
provide  most  of  the  plays  with  a  sufficient  number 
of  court  ladies,  pages,  fairies,  or  goblins,  to  allow  of 
the  introduction  of  as  many  minor  characters  as 
circumstances  may  render  advisable.  "The  Dream- 
Lady,"  "  White  Magic,"  and  "  Little  Bridget  " 
should  on  this  account  be  found  particularly  well 
suited  for  school  representation. 

At  the  same  time  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  appeal 
exclusively  to  schoolgirls.  The  hostess  of  a  summer 
or  winter  house-party,  for  instance,  with  several 
quite  young  people  among  her  guests,  may  find  of 
service  such  a  little  play  as  "  The  Gift  of  the 
Fairies,"  "  The  Wonderful  Rose,"  or  "  The  Dream- 
Lady." 

Perhaps,  too,  lovers  of  fairy-tale,  for  I  have  reason 
to  believe  that  such  still  exist,  may  welcome  some- 


8  PREFACE 

thing  of  a  more  or  less  fantastic  nature,  as  a  change 
from  the  rather  monotonous  repertoire  of  private 
theatricals. 

For  the  convenience  of  those  unused  to  stage- 
management,  I  have  placed  before  each  play  a  few 
hints  and  suggestions  as  to  its  treatment.  They  are 
of  a  simple  nature,  and  their  aim  is  merely  to  pass 
on  to  the  beginner  the  little  experience  I  myself 
have  gained  through  arranging  and  directing  a  few 
plays  for  children.  The  skilful  stage  manager  can 
easily  disregard  them. 

NETTA   SYRETT 


CONTENTS 

Page 

The  Dream-Lady n 

Little  Bridget 45 

White  Magic 69 

The  Gift  of  the  Fairies 97 

The  Wonderful  Rose 135 

In  Arcady 153 


THE    DREAM-LADY 

A    PLAY   IN    ONE   ACT 


SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 


THE    DREAM-LADY 

As  regards  general  arrangement,  the  following  sug- 
gestions for  The  Dream-Lady  apply  equally  to  any 
pastoral  play.  I  have  therefore  treated  each  point 
rather  fully  in  order  to  avoid  repetition. 

The  Dream-Lady  is  best  played  in  the  open  air, 
though  it  can  quite  well  be  put  on  the  stage.  If 
it  is  acted  indoors,  the  garden  scene,  in  which  the 
whole  action  takes  place,  should  be  as  romantic 
as  circumstances  and  scene-painting  can  make  it. 
The  following  hints,  however,  apply  to  an  outdoor 
representation. 

The  Setting.  For  this  particular  play,  a  garden, 
an  orchard,  or  even  the  edge  of  a  small  wood  or 
plantation  might  serve.  But  select  your  stage  with 
the  following  considerations  in  mind. 

i.  Convenient  Accommodation  for  an  Audi- 
ence. If  possible,  the  auditorium  should  be  shady. 
Heat  and  sunshades  are  equally  trying  to  the  temper. 


14  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

2.  A  Good  Background.  A  yew  hedge  or  a 
line  of  thick  bushes,  is  admirable  in  this  respect. 
But  if  a  site  otherwise  pretty  and  convenient  has  no 
natural  background,  a  line  of  rough  hurdles  covered 
with  bracken  or  branches  of  leafy  shrub  makes  an 
excellent  substitute.  Hurdles  treated  in  this  fashion 
are  very  convenient  for  filling  in  an  ugly  space,  and 
generally  helping  the  "  composition  "  of  your  stage 
picture. 

3.  PrcTURESQUE  Surroundings.  It  is  well  to  take 
advantage  of  any  romantic  or  picturesque  features 
your  garden  may  possess,  if  practical  considerations 
do  not  outweigh  the  advantage  of  such  a  site.  In- 
equalities in  the  ground,  grassy  banks,  a  flight  of 
steps  down  which  a  procession  could  pass,  anything, 
in  fact,  by  way  of  natural  "  scenery  "  greatly  helps  the 
grouping  of  the  figures  and  adds  to  the  beauty  of 
the  picture.  In  this  particular  play  the  house  itself, 
if  it  should  happen  to  be  at  all  romantic  in  appear- 
ance, might  be  the  palace,  and  through  it  the  actors 
could  make  some  of  their  exits  and  entrances.  If 
the  house  stands  upon  a  terrace,  with  the  garden 
below,  a  pretty  effect  is  gained  by  the  procession  of 
attendants  issuing  from  the  house  itself,  some  ladies 
and   pages  following  the  King  and   Queen  to  the 


THE    DREAM-LADY  15 

garden,  where  the  action  would  take  place,  others 
in  well-arranged  groups,  remaining  always  above  upon 
the  terrace. 

4.  Convenient  Exits  and  Entrances  for  the 
Performers.  The  "stage"  must  not  be  miles  away 
from  the  dressing-room,  for  instance,  nor  so  placed 
that  the  actors  cannot  easily  hear  and  take  up  their 
cues. 

5.  The  Lighting.  Notice  how  the  light  and 
shadow  fall  at  the  time  of  day  at  which  the  per- 
formance is  to  be  given.  The  sun  should  not  be  in 
the  actors'  eyes,  but  sunlight  falling  across  the  stage 
is  very  effective. 

Characters.  The  actors  must  look  their  parts. 
The  Dream-Lady,  for  instance,  should  scarcely  be 
played  by  a  strapping,  rosy- cheeked  girl,  however 
pretty  and  however  good  an  actress.  The  King  and 
Queen  might  well  be  represented  by  quite  grown-up 
people,  but  if  they  are  played  by  young  girls,  the 
Queen  must  be  made  up  to  look  a  matron,  though 
a  young  and  handsome  one.  The  King  may  be 
much  older,  and  perhaps  a  trifle  absurd  in  appear- 
ance, though  the  burlesque  spirit  should  be  kept 
in  check.     The  Prince  can  be  played  by  a  tall  girl 


16  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

of  sixteen  or  seventeen.  The  children  should  be  as 
young  as  possible.  At  any  rate,  they  must  not  look 
more  than  six  and  seven. 

The  number  of  attendants  will  naturally  vary  with 
the  space  at  your  disposal.  If  you  have  a  large 
stage,  groups  of  pages  and  ladies  in  waiting  com- 
pose well.     But  do  not  overcrowd  the  scene. 

Dress.  In  the  age  of  fairy  tale,  the  dresses  may 
be  a  picturesque  medley  of  period.  Very  effective 
for  some  of  the  attendants  are  straight  fourteenth- 
century  gowns  with  the  tall  pointed  "  sugar-loaf" 
head-dresses,  from  which  depends  a  gauzy  veil. 
But  any  number  of  easily  made  costumes  may  be 
suggested  by  the  study  of  photographs  from  four- 
teenth and  fifteenth  century  Florentine  pictures,  of 
books  like  CasselVs  Illustrated  History  of  England 
(numbers  dealing  with  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
centuries)  or  of  illustrated  fairy  tales,  such  as  are 
to  be  found  in  the  "  Red  "  or  "  Blue  "  fairy  books 
edited  by  Andrew  Lang.  The  Dream-Lady  should 
wear  a  "  robe "  as  different  as  possible  from  the 
formal  dress  of  the  mortals  in  the  play.  One  Dream- 
Lady  of  my  acquaintance  had  a  rather  narrow  and 
{railing  gown   of  soft  silk.     In  colour  it  was  misty 


THE   DREAM-LADY  17 

blue.  Cut  a  little  low  at  the  neck,  it  fell  straight 
to  the  ground  like  a  nightdress.  A  gauze  veil  of 
the  same  colour  was  fastened  on  her  hair,  and 
hung  in  clouds  about  her,  half  concealing  her  arras, 
which  were  bare.  Whenever  she  appeared  to  the 
children,  there  were  clusters  of  large  white  daisies 
in  her  hair,  placed  behind  the  ears,  and  from  these 
bunches,  chains  of  the  same  big  moon  daisies  fell 
almost  to  her  waist.  A  misty  greyish  blue  is  charm- 
ingly mysterious  against  a  background  of  trees.  If 
this  colour  is  chosen  for  the  Dream-Lady,  the  chil- 
dren should  both  be  in  white.  Astorre  should  wear 
long  stockings,  a  short  tunic  and  cloak,  Amellotte 
a  long  stiff  gown  (of  brocade,  if  possible)  with  a  little 
pearl-edged  cap.  White  and  gold,  or  white  and 
silver,  would  be  appropriate  for  the  Princess.  The 
King  and  Queen  should  be  as  sumptuous  in  appear- 
ance as  circumstances  may  permit,  while  the  Prince 
should  choose  some  deep-coloured  velvet  for  tunic 
and  cloak. 

Stage  Management.  First  think  of  the  picture 
you  want  to  produce,  and  then  leave  nothing  to 
chance.  All  the  attendants,  for  instance,  must  be 
drilled  to  make  their  entrances  and  exits  in  a  certain 


18  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

well-learnt  order.  Each  minor  character  must  know 
exactly  when  to  stand  or  sit,  and  what  attitude  to 
assume  at  every  point  in  the  play,  so  that  the  picture 
always  "composes"  well.  Of  course  this  applies 
equally  to  the  principal  figures.  Think  out  each 
move,  and  then  make  the  actors  learn  exactly  when 
to  cross  the  stage,  where  to  stand  while  they  say 
certain  lines,  and  what  positions  to  assume  with 
regard  to  their  fellow-actors.  At  any  given  point 
in  the  play,  the  stage-manager  ought  to  know  the 
relative  positions  of  all  the  figures  in  his  picture. 

Invent  suitable  and  natural  byplay  for  the  subor- 
dinate characters,  but  do  not  let  this  byplay  become 
obtrusive.  It  should  never  distract  attention  from 
the  principal  characters. 

Music  Violins  (with  very  unobtrusive  piano  ac- 
companiment) are  the  instruments  best  suited  to 
a  pastoral  play.  If  the  musicians  can  be  placed  out 
of  sight  of  the  audience,  yet  with  a  full  view  of  the 
"stage,"  so  much  the  better.  It  is  nearly  always 
possible  to  arrange  some  sort  of  screen  covered  with 
greenery,  behind  which  they  may  be  placed,  but 
unless  the  players  can  see  exactly  when  their  music 
is  needed,  and  when  it  should  cease,  let  them  be 


THE    DREAM-LADY  19 

frankly  visible  in  front  of  the  stage.  Martial  music 
should  be  played  at  the  entrance  and  at  some  of  the 
exits  of  the  King  and  Queen.  If  whenever  the 
Dream-Lady  enters  or  leaves  the  stage  one  particular 
air  is  played,  which  like  Wagner's  leit-motif  the  audi- 
ence will  come  to  recognise  as  the  "  dream-music, " 
the  mystery  which  should  surround  the  Dream- 
Lady  will  be  enhanced.  This  "dream-music"  should 
be  the  last  heard  in  the  play,  and  should  die  gradu- 
ally away  in  the  distance  after  the  Dream-Lady  and 
the  children  have  disappeared. 

Voice.  Much  training  is  necessary  in  order  to 
make  the  voices  " carry"  out  of  doors.  It  is  very 
difficult  to  speak  in  the  open  air,  but  with  patience 
and  practice  this  difficulty  may  be  overcome  with- 
out in  any  way  straining  the  voice  even  of  the 
youngest  child. 


THE    DREAM-LADY 

ACT  I  — Scene  I 

Scene.  —  Part  of  the  Garden  of  the  King's  Palace. 

E7iter  the  King,  Queen,  Ladies  of  the  Court,  Pages, 
etc.  The  Attendants  form  group  and  line  the 
way.  The  King  with  two  Pages.  The  Queen 
with  standard-bearers. 

King.  [Testily-]  Dismiss  these  people,  my  dear, 
send  them  away,  get  rid  of  them !  What 's  the  good 
of  being  a  king,  I  should  like  to  know,  if  one  can't 
have  a  moment's  peace  from  morning  to  night? 
Here  am  I  followed  about  incessantly  by  a  crowd  of 
bowing,  scraping  — 

Queen.  [Rising  hastily]  Ladies !  my  lords ! 
You  are  permitted  to  leave  us.  [Exit,  bowing 

[Turning  angrily  to  King]  Really,  my  love,  have 
you  no  sense  of  your  position  ?  Do  you  want  every 
one  to  know  you  were  n't  born  a  king  ?     You  show 


22  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

your  feelings  like  any  ordinary  commoner,  instead  of 
remembering  that  a  king  has  no  feelings  ! 

{Beginning  to  c?y 

King.  {Murmuring']  Ah !  the  exclusive  posses- 
sion of  a  queen,  I  see.  Come,  my  dear,  I  implore 
you,  do  not  cry.  It  exasperates  me  ;  it  always  did, 
in  the  good  old  days  before  I  was  a  king ! 

Queen.  {Hastily]  There  you  are  again !  Always 
harping  on  the  same  string.    You  take  a  pleasure  in  — 

King.  [  Tearing  his  hair]  Oh,  for  heaven's  sake, 
my  love,  be  reasonable !  Was  ever  a  poor,  inoffen- 
sive, mild-tempered  man  —  I  mean  king  —  more  wor- 
ried ?  As  though  a  fantastic,  capricious,  unreasonable 
daughter  was  n't  trial  enough,  his  wife  must  needs 
whine  and  cry  and  refuse  to  listen  when  he  wants  to 
tell  her  of  an  offer  of  marriage  he  has  received  for 
the  unworthy  girl,  —  a  really  excellent  offer ;  an  offer 
which  — 

Queen.  {Suddenly  excited"]  What?  What  did 
you  say?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before?  Who 
is  he?  Has  he  seen  her?  The  dear  child!  How 
delighted  I  am  !  But,  no  wonder,  with  her  beauty 
and  her  accomplishments. 

King.  {Drily]  And  her  ridiculous  nonsensical 
notions ! 


THE   DREAM-LADY  23 

Queen.  \_Again  on  the  verge  0/  tears']  You  never 
appreciated  the  child.  You  haven't  the  ordinary 
feelings  of  a  father. 

King.  A  king,  my  love,  if  you  remember,  has  no 
feelings ! 

Queen.  That  is  so  like  you !  Taking  up  my 
slightest  word.  But  why  don't  you  go  on?  Who 
is  Fiametta's  suitor? 

King.  [Complacently]  The  Prince  of  Goldacres, 
my  love. 

Queen.    [Rapturously]     The  Prince  — 

King.    Send  for  Fiametta. 

Queen.  [Clapping  her  hands  to  summon  Page] 
Go,  tell  the  Princess  we  await  her  here.  The  Prince 
—  my  love,  what  an  honour  !  What  a  delightful  sur- 
prise !  And  we  thought  the  Princess  of  Floramia 
had  done  well.  Why,  she  has  only  twenty  pages 
in  waiting.  Fiametta  can  have  forty  at  least,  and 
jewelled  trappings  to  her  horses  —  turquoise  and 
gold  would  be  charming,  or  pearls  perhaps,  and 
then  — 

King.  [Grimly]  Not  quite  so  fast,  my  dear. 
There  are  difficulties.  Your  daughter  has  been 
brought  up  very  foolishly ;  her  education  was  left  to 
— you,  remember !     Why,  the  girl  scribbles  poetry,  I 


24  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

believe !     Anything  may  be    expected   from  a   girl 
who  scribbles  poetry. 

Queen.    Nonsense  !     Hush,  here  she  comes  ! 

Enter  the  Princess,  followed  by  Pages.  She  kisses 
hands  of  King  and  Queen.  Pages  withdraw. 
Fiametta  [C.]. 

King.  [Pompously]  Fiametta,  we  have  sum- 
moned you  to  our  august  presence  to  impart  to  you 
a  matter  of  deep  moment. 

Queen.  [Interrupting.  King  leans  back  with 
shrug  of  despair]  Oh,  my  darling  child  !  A  suitor  ! 
Come  and  kiss  your  mother !  Can  you  guess  who 
comes  to  woo?  The  Prince  of  Goldacres,  my 
daughter!  Oh,  Fiametta  !  what  a  happy,  grateful 
girl  you  ought  to  be !  He  is  so  handsome,  so  rich, 
so  powerful ! 

Fiametta.  Yes,  he  is  handsome,  —  I  have  seen 
his  picture.     Rich  ?     [Puzzled'] 

Queen.  Beyond  all  dreams  !  Child,  your  coach 
shall  be  of  gold;  you  shall  have  milk-white  horses 
and  trappings,  jewel  set.     Pearls  for  your  hair  — 

Fiametta.  Gold  and  jewels,  yes  —  but  has  he 
seen  the  Dream-Lady  ? 


THE   DREAM-LADY  25 

King.    Has  he  seen  what? 

Fiametta.  [Turning  to  her  mother  reproachfully} 
The  Dream-Lady.  Have  you  forgotten,  mother? 
Long  ago  I  said  the  Prince  I  marry  must  have  seen 
the  Dream-Lady. 

Queen.  [In  desperation}  I  thought  that  childish 
nonsense  was  outgrown. 

King.  [Choking  with  rage}  What?  What  does 
the  girl  mean  ?  Speak !  Heaven  send  me  patience  ! 
The  Dream-Lady  !     Who  is  this  Dream-Lady  ? 

Fiametta.  [Shaking  her  head}  Ah !  I  don't 
know.  Sometimes  she  comes  at  dawn  just  when  the 
birds  are  waking.  Sometimes  I  find  her  in  the  forest 
standing  waist-deep  in  fern,  under  the  branching 
trees.  Sometimes  for  days  I  do  not  find  her,  and 
then  I  am  unhappy,  for  I  cannot  make  my  poems. 
My  poems  never  come  without  the  Dream-Lady. 

King.  The  girl  is  mad!  [Controlling  himself] 
Tell  me,  daughter,  does  any  one  but  you  see  this  — 
Dream-Lady  ? 

Fiametta.    Oh,  yes ! 

Queen.  [  Who  has  become  silent  and  reflective} 
Who,  then,  my  daughter  ? 

Fiametta.  My  little  brother  Astorre  and  my 
sister,  Amellotte  ! 


26  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

King.    Baby  children  ! 

Queen.    Who  else  ? 

Fiametta.  There  was  the  minstrel  who  came  the 
other  evening  to  the  Palace  Gates.  Before  the  ser- 
vants drove  him  from  the  door  I  talked  to  him.  He, 
too,  had  seen  the  Dream-Lady. 

King.    A  tattered  beggar ! 

Fiametta.  He  sang  more  beautifully  than  words 
can  tell. 

King.  [Still  controlling  himself  with  difficulty] 
Go  on.     Who  else  ? 

Fiametta.  The  other  day  when  I  was  riding 
through  the  city  streets  a  girl  sat  spinning  at 
an  open  door,  and  as  I  passed,  she  smiled.  I 
stopped  and  talked  to  her.  She  said  the  morrow 
was  her  wedding  day,  and  then  she  smiled  again 
for  happiness.  She  too  had  seen  the  Dream- 
Lady.  Then  all  the  children,  even  in  the  dirtiest 
streets  — 

King.  Did  ever  a  poor,  patient  king  and  father 
listen  to  such  stuff :  the  children  in  the  streets  —  a 
beggarly  musician  —  a  woman  at  a  cottage  door 
—  the  girl  is  mad  !  Mad  !  \_Fiercely  to  her~\  Do 
you  suppose  /ever  saw  this  Dream- Lady? 

Fiametta.    Oh,  no  ! 


THE   DREAM-LADY  27 

King.  Or  the  Lord  High  Chancellor,  or  the 
Gold  Stick-in-waiting,  or  the  Ladies  of  the  Bed- 
chamber, or  any  of  the  people  of  the  Court? 

Fiametta.     Oh,  no ! 

King.  Well,  then,  let  us  have  no  more  nonsense  ! 
The  Prince  arrives  to-day.  Receive  him  graciously, 
and  in  the  name  of  common-sense  no  talk  of  Dream- 
Ladies  and  moonshine  !  [Getting  up  and  going  off 
in  a  fury]  Whatever  the  princesses  of  the  present 
day  are  coming  to,  passes  my  poor  wit !  If  I  had 
my  way,  I  'd  lock  them  up  in  enchanted  towers 
as  they  did  in  the  good  old  times.  [Grumbling] 
And  even  then  the  Prince  always  came  and  let  them 
out.     [JR.  C] 

Fiametta.  [  Turning  to  her  mother  when  the  King 
is  out  of  hearing]  [In  distressed  voice]  Mother,  did 
you  never  see  the  Dream-Lady  ? 

Queen.  [Moved]  I  —  I  don't  know,  my  child. 
It  is  so  long  ago. 

Fiametta.    [Eagerly]     Oh,  mother,  when,  when? 

Queen.  It  is  all  dim  and  confused.  But  it 
was  long  ago.  Your  father  was  better-tempered 
then,  and  handsome,  and  I  was  young,  as  young  as 
you. 

Fiametta.   Oh,  then,  mother,  you  will  understand  1 


28  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Only  the  nicest  people  see  the  Dream-Lady.     That 
is  why  the  Prince  — 

Queen.  \_Shaking  her  head~\  Ah,  yes,  my 
daughter,  but  we  must  be  wise ;  the  Dream-Lady 
brings  neither  gold  nor  land  ;  and,  after  all  — 

[They  go  out,  the  Queen  with  her  arm 
round  the  Princess,  who  shakes  her 
head  as  thoicgh  unconvinced.  Enter 
the  little  Prince  and  Princess,  As- 
torre  and  Amellotte,  followed  by 
Attendants,  who  group  themselves 
[-£•],  while  the  Children  run  across 
grass 
Astorre.  Let  us  sit  here  and  finish  the  daisy 
chain. 

Amellotte.  We  '11  give  this  very  long  one  to  the 
Prince  who  came  to-day.     Shall  we  ? 

Astorre.     Yes,  and  then  —  \_Music 

Children.  The  Dream-Lady,  look  !  The  Dream- 
Lady  ! 

\_The  Children  throw  their  daisies  on  the 
grass  and  run  to  meet  her.  She  is 
crowtied  with  daisies.  She  passes  close 
to  group  of  Attendants,  who  do  not  see 
her 


THE    DREAM-LADY  29 

Astorre.  Nanina  !  Angelo  !  Stand  up !  Don't 
you  see  the  Dream-Lady? 

[The  Attendants  look  round,  nod  and  laugh, 
and  turn  to  their  embroidery  frames  again. 
The  Children  look  from  them  to  the 
Dream-Lady,  puzzled 

Page.    What  does  he  mean  ? 

Nanina.  Oh,  it 's  a  game  they  play.  They 
say  a  certain  Dream-Lady  is  with  them.  They  are 
strange  children,  their  heads  stuffed  full  of  fairy 
nonsense.  Give  me  a  skein  of  silk,  Denise.  Not 
that,  the  rosy  one. 

Dream-Lady.  [To  Children]  Never  mind,  they 
do  not  see  me. 

Astorre.    Not  see  you  ?     Why,  you  are  here  ! 

Dream-Lady.    [Smiling']     But  not  for  them. 

Amellotte.    Did  they  ever  see  you  ? 

Dream-Lady.    Perhaps,  long  ago. 

Astorre.    When  they  were  little  girls  ? 

Dream-Lady.  [Laughing']  Yes,  when  they  were 
little  girls.  What  are  you  doing?  Making  daisy 
chains.     Well,  I  will  help  you. 

Astorre.    Tell  us  a  story. 

Amellotte.  No,  tell  us  where  you've  been 
to-day. 


30  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Dream-Lady.  Oh,  to  so  many  places.  First, 
before  dawn,  I  wandered  through  the  meadows  in 
the  starlight,  and  saw  the  fairies  dancing. 

Amellotte.  Did  the  Queen  dance  too?  Show 
us  how  she  danced. 

Dream-Lady.  No,  you  dance,  Astorre.  Do  you 
remember  when  we  watched  the  elves  dancing  in  the 
moonlight?  Show  us  how  they  danced.  [The  child 
dances']  [After  the  dance 

Beautiful,  Astorre  !  [To  Amellotte 

We  can  almost  see  the  fairy  rings  growing,  can't 
we,  sweetheart  ? 

Astorre.    And  then  where  did  you  go  ? 

Dream-Lady.    Then  I  went  through  the  forest  — 

Amellotte.  Oh,  did  you  see  my  dolly?  The 
other  day  I  lost  her  in  the  forest. 

Dream-Lady.  Yes,  I  saw  her.  [Mysteriously] 
She  is  changed  into  a  fairy. 

Children.    A  fairy ! 

Dream-Lady.  I  saw  her  driving  into  Fairyland. 
She  had  a  little  coach  made  of  a  hazel-nut,  and  two 
brown  dormice  drew  her  coach. 

Amellotte.    What  was  she  dressed  in  ? 

Dream-Lady.  A  daisy  had  lent  her  its  fringed 
petticoat  all  tipped  with  rosy  Dink. 


THE   DREAM-LADY  31 

Astorre.    And  on  her  head? 
Dream-Lady.    She  wore  its  crown  of  gold. 
Amellotte.    And  on  her  feet  ? 
Dream-Lady.    Little  silky  shoes,  made  of  its  green 
leaves. 

Children.  [Clapping  their  hands']  And  she  has 
gone  to  Fairyland  ?     Will  she  come  back  again  ? 

Dream-Lady.  Yes,  because  she  heard  you  crying 
for  her.  But  she  won't  look  like  your  dolly.  She 
will  be  turned  into  a  daisy. 

Amellotte.  [Dolefully]  How  shall  we  know 
her,  then? 

Dream-Lady.    Come  here,  and  I  will  tell  you. 

[The  Children  lean  against  her,  and  she 
says  poem  while  they  gradually  grow 
sleepy 

[Music 

Down  by  the  river,  where  green  grows  the  grass, 
Under  the  shining  stars  fairy  folk  pass  ; 
Fairies  from  Dreamland  come  trooping  that  way, 
But  there  by  the  river  your  dolly  will  stay. 

Under  the  shining  stars  all  the  night  long 

The  fairies  come  flocking  with  laughter  and  song, 

Hastening  to  Fairyland  ere  break  of  day, 

But  there  in  the  green  grass  your  dolly  will  stay. 


32  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

She  is  the  whitest  of  all  the  white  daisies ; 
Brightest  of  all  is  the  gold  crown  she  raises ; 
Rosiest  pink  is  the  frill  of  her  gown  ; 
When  you  have  found  her,  children,  kneel  down. 

Kneel  down  beside  her,  and  tell  her  you  know 

That  she  is  a  fairy,  and  say  she  may  go 

Back  to  her  Fairyland,  happy  and  gay, 

Kiss  her  and  thank  her,  but  don't  make  her  stay. 

\The  Children  sleep 

Don't  make  her  stay  in  this  dull  world  of  ours ; 

Let  her  go  back  to  the  undying  flowers 

Of  that  magic  land  of  whose  starlight  and  streams 

Mortals  catch  but  a  glimpse  through  the  Lady  of  Dreams. 


[The  Dream-Lady  goes  out,  finger  on  lip, 
Passing  the  group  of  Attendants,  befo?-e 
whom  she  pauses  a  moment 
Denise.    You   do   not  think  she  will  refuse  the 
Prince's  hand? 

Nanina.     [Shrugging  her  shoulders]    Who  knows  ? 
Her  folly  has  no  bounds. 

Denise.    And  such  a  Prince ! 
Nanina.    Handsome  ! 
Denise.    Young ! 
Nanina.    Above  all,  rich ! 


THE    DREAM-LADY  33 

Denise.  Ah,  yes  !  so  rich.  Life  holds  no  gift  so 
great  as  gold. 

Nanina.    [Smiling]     What  does  our  song  say? 

[Sings 

Life  is  a  toy  with  which  we  play 
A  little  while,  a  summers  day. 
Since  life 's  a  toy,  howe'er  it  be, 
None  but  a  gilded  toy  for  me ! 

Life  is  a  toy  whose  colours  die ; 
Fame  but  a  bubble  blown  on  high. 
Since  life  's  a  toy,  howe'er  it  be, 
None  but  a  gilded  toy  for  me. 

Why,  look !  they  are  asleep !  Come,  Prince.  Come, 
Princess.  [She  rouses  the??> 

Astorre.  Let  us  go  and  look  for  the  whitest  it 
all  the  white  daisies. 

Amellotte.  [Rubbing  her  eyes']  Has  the  Dream- 
Lady  gone  ? 

Nanina.  [As  they  go  out]  Nonsense  !  There  is 
no  Dream-Lady.  [L. 

[Music 

Enter  Prince,  King,  and  Queen.     [R.  CJ] 

King.    Well,  Prince,  you  have  seen  our  daughter. 
How  does  your  wooing  prosper? 
2 


34  SIX    FAIRY    PLAYS 

Prince.  [Shrugging  his  shoulders]  Sire,  indiffer- 
ently !  The  Princess,  indeed,  is  all  my  fancy  painted, 
beautiful,  accomplished,  gracious.  She  would  prove 
a  queen  of  whom  I  should  be  proud.  Well,  Sire,  I 
urged  my  suit,  —  a  suit  not  all  unworthy,  as  I  think. 
But  when  I  laid  my  crown,  my  fortune,  at  her  feet, 
she  made  but  one  reply.  She  talked  about  a  certain 
Dream-Lady. 

Queen.    Whom  you  have  never  seen? 

Prince.  [Laughing]  Madam,  I  care  to  see  no 
Dream-Ladies. 

King.  The  Prince  prefers  them  flesh  and  blood, 
like  a  wise  man. 

Prince.  [Still  laughing']  Sire,  you  are  right ! 
Beauty,  bright  eyes,  the  red  wine  in  the  cup,  the 
rousing  horn  through  all  the  forest  glades,  these 
make  the  joy  of  life.  Dreams  and  Dream-Ladies 
I  'm  content  to  leave  to  the  world's  dreamers. 

King.  Well  spoken,  Prince.  Wife,  here  is  a  son 
for  us  !  Fiametta  must  be  brought  to  reason.  [Im- 
patiently]  You  see,  my  love,  she  must  be  brought 
to  reason? 

Queen.  [  With  a  start]  Oh,  yes  !  you  are  right. 
In  time  we  are  all  brought  to  reason. 

King.    This  nonsense  must  be  stopped,  —  put  an 


THE    DREAM-LADY  35 

end  to,  settled  once  for  all !  This  Dream-Lady  is 
becoming  an  intolerable  nuisance.  To  prove  the 
calmness  of  my  temper,  Prince,  to  prove  the  fair  and 
reasonable  view  I  always  take  of  things,  I  caused 
inquiry  to  be  made,  and  summoned  all  who  babbled 
of  this  thing. 

Prince.    [Smiling]     And  the  result  ? 

King.  [Contemptuously]  Oh,  I  have  just  dis- 
missed a  crowd  of  beggars,  children,  silly  young 
maids,  mooning  poets,  and  the  like ! 

Prince.    All  telling  the  same  tale  ? 

King.  No,  not  even  that.  They  could  not  keep 
even  the  same  foolish  story.  [To  Queen]  What 
was  the  madness  that  they  talked,  my  love  ?  I  had 
not  the  patience  to  hear  half  they  said. 

Queen.  [Slowly]  To  the  old  crippled  woman 
she  came  with  poppies  in  her  hand.  The  young  bride 
saw  her  crowned  with  roses.     As  for  the  children  — 

King.  Ah,  that  reminds  me  !  Our  children,  as 
I  think,  have  heard  the  common  talk.  I  have  sent 
for  them.  This  must  be  stopped,  I  say.  I  am  a 
plain  man,  —  I  should  say  king,  —  there's  no  non- 
sense about  me,  and  there  shall  be  none  about  my 
Court ! 

Queen.    Here  come  the  children. 


36  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

[C.  R.~\  Enter  the  two  ChildreJi  with  Attendants 
and  Fiametta.  The  Childre?i  kiss  hands  of 
King  and  Queen.  Prince  bows  before  Fia- 
metta and  they  stroll  away  together. 

King.  Now,  my  children,  I  'm  told  you  think  2 
certain  lady  comes  and  talks  to  you  — 

Amellotte.  She  does  come.  She  is  the  Dream- 
Lady.  She  told  us  where  to  find  our  dolly,  and 
we  Ve  found  her,  only  she 's  a  daisy  now. 

Astorre.  No,  by  this  time  she 's  a  fairy.  We 
told  her  to  go  back  to  Fairyland. 

Fiametta.    What  did  the  Dream- Lady  say? 

Amellotte.  [Looking  at  Astorre]  You  begin. 
[They  say  the  Dream-Lady's  poem  betwee?i 
them,  but  hesitate  before  the  last  verse 

Amellotte.  There  was  some  more,  but  I  have 
forgotten  — 

Astorre.    Yes,  so  have  I. 

King.  [Looking  round  to  Attendants^  Who 
taught  them  this  ? 

Children.    The  Dream-Lady  said  it ! 

King.  Fiddlesticks!  What  is  the  Dream-Lady 
like? 

Amellotte.    She  is  very  pretty. 


THE   DREAM-LADY  37 

Astorre.    She  has  daisies  in  her  hair. 

Fiametta.  Daisies !  No,  not  daisies.  She  is 
crowned  with  a  laurel  wreath. 

King.  [Turning  to  Prince]  There!  not  the 
same  tale,  you  see!  [To  Children]  Now  listen, 
Astorre  and  Amellotte !  I  forbid  this  imbecility. 
There  is  no  Dream-Lady.  I  don't  see  her,  and 
therefore  what  I  don't  see,  don't  you  presume  to  see. 
Play  with  your  dolls,  your  rocking-horses  and  fallals, 
like  reasonable  beings,  and  never  let  me  have  to  speak 
of  this  again.  [The  Children  go  off  in  tears 

Amellotte.    [Sobbing']  There  is  a  Dream-Lady ! 

Astorre.    Of  course  there  is  a  Dream-Lady. 

King.  [In  violent  temper]  What  ?  Do  they  pre- 
sume to  argue  with  me  ?  Do  the  very  babies  set  me 
at  naught !  Here  am  I,  a  thoroughly  reasonable, 
patient,  temperate  man,  defied !  defied  in  my  own 
Court  by  a  pack  of  women  and  children  !  Abomi- 
nable !  [To  Attendants]  Monstrous !  Keep  off,  I 
say  !  I  will  ?iot  be  followed  about  from  morning  to 
night  —     I  —  [Rushes  off  L. 

Queen.  [Aside  to  Fiametta]  So  like  your 
father !  before  the  Prince,  too !  The  last  per- 
son one  would  wish  to  guess  he  wasn't  born  a 
king.     [Glancing  at  the  Prince  as  he  walks  away] 


38  SIX   FAIRY    PLAYS 

Be  wise,  my   daughter.      Believe   me,   dreams   are 
useless. 

\_Exit  with  Attendants 

Fringe.  What  can  I  say  to  win  you,  fair  Princess? 
Will  you  not  leave  this  dreaming  and  come  out  into 
the  world  with  me?  I  will  win  kingdoms  for  your 
smile,  and  you  shall  be  the  fairest  queen  and  rule 
the  broadest  lands  of  any  lady  on  this  earth.  Say  ! 
is  it  nothing  to  wed  with  one  brave  in  the  fight, 
skilled  in  the  chase,  honoured  and  feared  through- 
out his  realm? 

Fiametta.  Ah,  but  you  do  not  understand !  All 
this  is  much  to  me.  The  Prince  I  marry  must  be 
brave  in  war,  skilled  in  the  chase,  honoured  and 
feared  indeed,  but  to  such  a  Prince  may  not  the 
Dream-Lady  come? 

Prince.  [Smiling]  What  can  I  do,  Princess,  if 
she  comes  not  to  me  ? 

Fiametta.  [Sadly\  Nothing,  I  fear,  but  leave 
me.  Yes,  leave  me  now  a  little  while  alone.  The 
King,  I  think,  goes  hunting.     Will  you  not  join  him  ? 

Prince.  [Turning  back  to  look  at  the  Princess] 
She  is  the  sweetest  lady  in  the  world !  Would  I 
could  find  a  way  to  win  her  !  [Hesitating]  Since 
she  persists  in  this  mad  fantasy,  I  'd  even  see  the 


THE    DREAM-LADY  39 

Lady  of  her  dreams   \Jialf  laughing]    if  it  were 
possible ! 

[Fiametta  takes  her  tablets  and  tries  to  write. 
Shakes  her  head  mournfully 
Fiametta.     No  use !      My   poems  never  come 
without  the   Dream-Lady. 

Dream-Lady  enters,  crowned  with  laurel,  comes  softly 
behind  the  Princess,  and  takes  pencil  from  her 
hand. 

Fiametta.  [Starting]  The  Dream-Lady !  Is  it 
indeed  the  Dream-Lady !  Lady,  I  feared  another 
day  would  pass  without  a  sight  of  you.  It  is  so  long 
—  such  a  long  time  —  since  you  have  come  to  me. 

Dream-Lady.  Have  I  been  well  remembered? 
Not  since  the  day  you  saw  the  Prince's  picture. 

Fiametta.  No,  I  confess  it !  Since  I  saw  him, 
my  books,  my  poems,  all  my  dreams  of  fame,  seem  to 
mean  nothing  to  me  any  more. 

Dream-Lady.    And  you  would  be  his  wife  ? 

Fiametta.  [Hesitating]  I  am  afraid  !  He  does 
not  see  the  Dream-Lady,  and  —  I  am  afraid.  [Kneel- 
ing beside  her]    Lady  !  will  you  not  go  to  him  ? 

Dream-Lady.  He  would  not  see  me.  He  must 
first  believe  that  I  exist. 


40  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Fiametta.    [Anxiously]    Shall  I  persuade  him? 

Dream-Lady.  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps.  [She  takes 
the  laurel  wreath  from  her  hair  and  begins  to  move 
slowly  away] 

Fiametta.  Why  do  you  take  the  laurel  from  your 
hair  ? 

Dream-Lady.    You  will  not  need  it  now. 

Fiametta.    Shall  I  not  see  you  any  more  ? 

Dream-Lady.  If  the  Prince  sees  me,  never  any 
more. 

Fiametta.    Lady  !     I  cannot  lose  you ! 

Dream-Lady.  Not  if  you  gain  your  heart's  desire  ? 
Can  you  have  that  unpaid  for?  Is  the  price  too 
costly  ? 

Fiametta.  [Suddenly']  No  !  .  .  .  But  if  I  do  not 
gain  my  heart's  desire  ? 

Dream-Lady.  Yours  is  the  woman's  risk.  Fare- 
well ;  I  take  with  me  the  laurel  crown,  and  leave  the 
rose  with  you  [  Giving  her  the  rose] 

[The  Princess   looks  regretfully  after  the 
Dream- Lady,  then  kisses  the  rose 

Enter  the  Prince.     The  Princess  starts. 
Fiametta.    Prince  !     You  have  returned  ! 


THE   DREAM-LADY  41 

Prince.  We  did  not  go,  Princess.  The  King  is 
—  indisposed. 

Fiametta.  Ah  !  he  is  still  angry,  then !  I  am  sorry, 
Sir,  that  you  have  lost  your  sport. 

Prince.  And,  I,  Princess,  have  blessed  the  King's 
annoyance,  since  it  has  brought  me  to  you  once  again 
before  I  say  farewell. 

Fiametta.     [Faltering!y~\    Farewell ! 

Prince.    Yes,  for  I  cannot  win  you. 

Fiametta.    Ah,  but  if  the  Dream-Lady  — 

Prince.  Princess,  I  fear  I  shall  not  see  the  Dream- 
Lady.  If  she  exists,  it  is  to  other,  different  folk  she 
comes,  —  to  the  two  children  in  their  innocence  ;  to 
you,  who  are  yourself  a  poem  ;  to  those  who  love  as 
some  men  love. 

Princess.    But  do  you  not  love  me  ? 

Prince.  I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  I  came  here 
to  woo  you.  My  Queen,  I  thought,  must  do  me 
honour.  She  must  have  rank  and  beauty,  that  my 
subjects  may  applaud  my  choice,  and  that  I  may  be 
envied  in  my  world.  For  love,  and  for  your  happi 
ness,  Princess,  I  took  no  thought. 

Fiametta.    \_Softly\    And  now? 

Prince.  And  now,  since  I  have  seen  you,  watched 
you,  talked  with  you,  I  find  that  I  have  never  loved 


42  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

before.  For  your  dear  sake  I  could  believe  —  even 
in  the  Dream- Lady  !  Ah,  Princess !  I  did  not  know 
that  love  was  such  a  mighty  lord. 

[As  he  takes  her  hand  to  say  farewell,  the 
Dream- Lady  appears.  She  is  crowned 
with  roses.  He  turns ;  sees  her,  and  starts 
back  in  amazement 

Prince.  The  Dream -Lady  !  \_Kneels  and  kisses 
her  hand] 

[The  Dream-Lady,  smiling,  disappears 

Prince.  [///  dazed  fashion,  turning  to  Princess, 
to  whom  the  Dream-Lady  is  invisible]  The  Dream- 
Lady  !  She  has  appeared  to  me  !  Then,  Princess  ! 
[kisses  her]     Was  she  not  beautiful? 

Fiametta.    How  did  she  come  to  you? 

Prince.  [Astonished]  You  saw  her?  Crowned 
with  roses  ?     Red  roses  in  her  hands  ? 

Fiametta.  [Shaking  her  head]  I  only  saw  your 
face,  my  Prince.  The  Dream-Lady  will  come  to  me 
no  more.  But  I  am  content ;  I  have  your  love 
instead. 

King  [-ff.J.  [flushing  in  angrily,  followed  by 
Queen]  Oh !  by  all  means,  send  him  away.  Let 
him  return  —  let  us  lose  all  our  chances  !  We  must 
not  thwart  our  daughters  nowadays  ! 


THE    DREAM-LADY  43 

Prince.  [Leading  Princess  to  King  and  Queen] 
Sire,  the  Princess  has  given  me  my  happiness. 

Queen.    [Tentatively]    My  dear  child ! 

[Embraces  her 

King.  [  With  sudden  change  of  tone]  I  am  re- 
joiced to  hear  our  daughter  has  at  length  remembered 
filial  duty.  Come  here,  my  child,  and  kiss  our  hand. 
Prince,  I  commend  her  to  you,  and  [aside]  don't 
have  any  of  her  nonsense.  [Strutting  up  and  down] 
I  thought  our  kingly  dignity  must  awe  her  to  submis- 
sion !  Where  are  all  the  attendants  ?  Never  anybody 
here  when  they  are  wanted,  of  course  !  [He  rushes 
out  to  seek  Attendants] 

Queen.  [To  Fiametta]  My  daughter,  you  have 
chosen  wisdom's  path,  believe  me. 

Fiametta.  Ah,  mother !  but  the  Prince  has  seen 
the  Dream-Lady. 

Queen.  [Incredulously]  The  Prince  !  my  child  is 
very  much  in  love  ! 

Enter  King  \_R.   C]  followed  by  the  Attendants 
with  Children. 

King.  Ladies  !  my  lords !  Let  me  announce  to 
you  the  betrothal  of  the  Princess,  our  daughter,  with 
our  fair  friend,  the  Prince  of  Goldacres.    We  will  lead 


44  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

on  towards  the  council-room,  where,  with  solemnity, 

I  may  announce  this  fortunate  event.     [To  Queen 

aside]   I  think,  my  love,  something  in  the  way  of 

a  banquet  this  evening  might  not  be  out  of  place. 

[Bridal  Music 

[Exit  Prince,  Princess,  King,  and  Queen, 

with   Attendants,    who   scatter  flowers. 

The  two  Children  have  stolen  away  from 

the  rest  and  hidden 

[Music 

The  Dream-Lady  appears  after  the  bridal  train  has 
passed.     The  Children  run  to  her. 

Astorre.    Here  she  is  ! 

Amellotte.    Our  Dream-Lady  ! 

Dream-Lady.     [Looking  towards  the  disappearing 

bridal  party]     Ah  !   they  may  forget  —  but  I  shall 

always  have  the  children  ! 

[  With  her  arms  round  them  she  wanders 

out  of  sight 

[Music 

Finis 


LITTLE   BRIDGET 


LITTLE    BRIDGET 

"They  stole  little  Bridget  "... 

The  Fairies.  —  W.  Allingham. 

The  Setting  is  sufficiently  described  in  the  stage 
directions,  but  it  can  of  course  be  more  simply 
treated,  as  long  as  the  doors  for  exits  and  entrance? 
are  in  the  positions  indicated. 

Characters.  It  is  essential  that  Bridget  should 
be  played  by  a  clever  child  with  a  sense  of  humour. 
If  she  cannot  sing,  let  her  say  her  verses.  The 
pixy-song  might  be  recited  to  an  accompaniment  of 
soft  music. 

Dress.  The  dress  described  in  the  stage  direc- 
tions for  The  Wonderful  Rose  would  do  for  the 
older  characters,  but  any  eighteenth-century  pictures 
of  country  people  will  show  the  costume.  Bridget 
should  wear  a  high-waisted  frock  of  dark  green,  with 
short  puff  sleeves.  It  must  be  torn  and  untidy.  In 
the  second   act  she  must  either   have  a  nightgown 


48  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

or  a  dressing-gown  quaintly  cut,  or  retain  the  same 
dress. 

The  pixies  must  be  all  in  green,  though  some  of 
them  may  wear  red  caps,  basin-shaped  or  pointed. 
Their  tight-fitting  tunics  would  look  pretty,  slashed 
up  to  suggest  long  leaves. 

Music.  Let  this  be  as  weird  and  reedy  as  pos 
sible.  It  should  generally  sound  a  little  faint  and 
far  away. 

Lighting.  Unless  the  moonlight  effect  can  be 
well  managed,  do  not  attempt  it.  Let  Bridget  light 
the  candles.  Of  course  moonshine,  if  it  can  be 
arranged,  with  a  glimmer  of  candle-light  as  well, 
greatly  helps  the  picture. 


LITTLE   BRIDGET 


CHARACTERS 

Mistress  Willow.  Bridget  (a  fairy  changeling). 

Chloe  (her  daughter).  Betty  (the  servant-maid). 

Lubin  (betrothed  to  Chloe).    Pixies. 


Scene  I 

A  kitchen  in  an  eighteenth- cent u?y  farmhouse.  There 
is  a  wide  fireplace  with  chimney-seat,  an  oak 
dresser,  and  other  old-fashioned  furniture.  Low 
caseme?it  windows,  tvith  chintz  curtains.  A 
spinning-wheel  near  the  fire,  and  an  untidy 
heap  of  flax  scattered  about  near  it. 

E?iter  Mistress  Willow.     She  starts  back  in  dis- 
may at  sight  of  the  confusion. 

Mistress  W.    Why,  who  — ?     [Going  to  door  and 
calling]     Betty  !  Betty  ! 
Betty.    Yes,  mistress? 


50  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Mistress  W.  Who  hath  been  meddling  with  my 
spinning,  Betty?  Prithee,  look!  All  the  work  of 
this  last  week  unravelled  and  destroyed. 

Betty.  [Holding  up  her  hands  in  dismay]  Alack 
the  day  !  Look  at  it  indeed  !  A  pretty  business  to 
set  right,  and  no  mistake. 

Mistress  W.  [Impatiently]  But  who  hath  done 
it,  Betty  ?  'T  is  scarce  an  hour  since  I  left  the 
wheel. 

Betty.  I  protest  I  know  not,  mistress.  There 's 
no  one  in  the  house  but  you  and  me.  Mistress 
Chloe  's  milking,  and  as  for  little  Mistress  Bridget  — 

Mistress  W.  [Severely]  She  's  under  lock  and 
key,  and  so  she  shall  remain  till  she  repents  her  ill 
behaviour.  What  doth  possess  the  child  I  vow  I 
cannot  tell.  As  to  this  mischief  [pointing  to  the 
flax]  I  know  not  —  [Breaking  off  in  tone  of  annoy- 
ance]    Betty,  again  this  fire  is  out ! 

Betty.  [In  exasperated  tone]  Out  again!  Thrice 
this  morning  have  I  lighted  it !  A  fire  that  till  a 
week  ago  burnt  at  a  touch. 

Mistress  W.  Don't  chatter,  girl.  Bring  some 
more  sticks  if  you  have  done  the  churning. 

Betty.  Churning,  mistress?  These  three  hours 
and  more  I  've  turned  and  turned  till  my  poor  arms 


LITTLE    BRIDGET  51 

are  black  and  blue.  Moll 's  at  it  now,  but  not  a  sign 
of  butter.     And  as  for  — 

Mistress  W.  [Suddenly  interrupting]  The  clock 
hath  stopped.  The  clock  that 's  gone  for  twenty 
years  and  more  ! 

Betty.  [Aghast]  Good  lack,  mistress  !  What 's 
coming  to  the  house?  [Glancing  out  of  the  window] 
Here 's  Master  Lubin  walking  from  the  farmyard 
with  a  basket.     Fie !   how  glum  he  looks  ! 

Enter  Lubin,  a  youth  in  a  smock  frock.     He  carries 
a  covered  basket. 

Lubin.  [Gloomily']  Good-morrow,  Mistress  Wil- 
low. Two  more  of  the  best  hens  are  like  to  die. 
[Glancing  at  hearth]  I  thought  maybe  you  'd  have 
a  fire  to  warm  them. 

Mistress  W.  Betty !  Bring  the  sticks.  [Exit 
Betty  to  return  a  moment  later  with  sticks.  She 
kneels  before  the  hearth,  arranging  them] 

Lubin.    [Gloomily]     The  cow  is  dead. 

Mistress  W.  Not  poor  old  Whitefoot?  Oh,  this 
is  grievous,  Lubin. 

Lubin.  All  the  black  pigs  are  ill.  A  fox  hath 
taken  the  white  duck  and  her  ducklings,  and  the 
old  mare  's  gone  lame. 


52  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Mistress  W.  [  Wringing  her  hands]  Lubin ! 
Lubin !  What 's  coming  to  the  house  ?  It  seems 
bewitched.  .   .  .  Where  is  Chloe? 

Lubin.  [Stiffly]  I  vow  I  know  not.  An  hour 
ago,  I  left  her  going  a-milking.  What  ails  the  maid 
I  cannot  say.  She  left  me  in  a  monstrous  evil 
temper. 

Mistress  W.  [Amazed]  Chloe  in  an  evil  tem- 
per !  You  and  Chloe,  who  do  naught  but  bill  and 
coo?  Why,  in  another  week  you  will  be  man  and 
wife ! 

Enter  Chloe  with  her  milk-pail,  sobbing. 

Chloe.  We  never,  never  shall  be  man  and  wife  ! 
I  will  not  bear  it !     No,  I  will  not  bear  it ! 

Betty.  [Springing  up]  Drat  the  fire !  It  will 
not  burn. 

[High,  shrill  laughter  heard,  and  a  voice 
to  which  all  listen,  begins  to  sing  mockingly 

Oh,  the  fire  won't  burn, 

And  the  milk  won't  churn. 

The  old  cow  's  dead, 

Sister  Chloe  's  unwed, 

Sing  hey  !  Sing  hey!  and  be  merry! 


LITTLE  BRIDGET  53 

Mistress  W.     [Sitting  do7vn  on  chair  and  covering 

her  face  with  her  hands']     That 's  Bridget !     Alas  ! 

Alas  !     What  can  possess  the  child?     A  week  ago, 

the   sweetest   little   maid   that   ever  stepped.     And 

now  — 

[  Voice  again 

Sing  hey,  sing  hey,  and  be  merry  ! 

Mistress  W.     [Angrily]    Go,  Betty !   Unlock  her 

chamber   door.     Tell   her   of  my  displeasure,   and 

command  her  to  be  silent. 

[Exit  Betty 

[Mistress  Willow  talks  while  Chloe  sobs, 

and    Lubin    leans    sulkily   against   the 

dresser 

A  week  ago,  a  stern  look  was  enough  if  she  had 

done  amiss,  and  now  nothing  will  touch  her.     She 

doth  but  laugh  and  scoff — 

"Bridget"  rushes  into  the  room,  laughing  wildly, 
helplessly  followed  by  Betty.  She  is  a  child 
often  or  eleven.  Her  hair  flies  loose,  and  is  wild 
and  untidy.  Her  dress  is  torn.  Her  face  is  full 
of  mischief.  She  runs  to  her  mother,  roughly 
embraces  her,  still  laughing,  and  begins  to  dance 
round  her. 


54  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Bridget.  Oh,  what  fun  !  What  fun  !  Poor  Betty 
tried  to  catch  me.  She  unlocked  the  door  like  this  — 
[mocking  her]  and  out  I  whisked.  I  vow  I  never 
laughed  so  much.  [She  turns  to  her  sister]  Why, 
what 's  amiss  with  Sister  Chloe  ?  [Sobbing  in  mockery 
and  then  laughing  and  dancing']  And  Lubin  too  ! 
Look  at  his  dismal  face.  [She  imitates  it]  What 's 
in  the  basket,  Lubin  ?  [Kneeling  down,  she  looks  in, 
and  jumps  up,  clapping  her  hands]  Oh,  the  silly,  fluffy 
hens.  They  are  both  dead  !  They  hang  their  heads 
like  this.  [She  lets  her  head  fall  limply  about,  while 
she  laughs] 

[Everyone  has  watched  the  child  in  amaze- 
ment, without  speaking 

Mistress  W.  [Breaking  silence]  How  dare  you, 
mistress  !     Go  back  to  your  room. 

Bridget.  You  must  catch  me  first.  Come,  Betty, 
catch  me  !  Catch  me !  [She  runs  before  Betty,  who 
tries  in  vain  to  catch  her.  At  last  she  springs  o?i  to 
a  high  chair,  and  holds  out  her  arms  to  LubiNj 
insinuatingly]     I  will  go  back  if  Lubin  takes  me 

Lubin.  [  Goes  forward  rather  eagerly]  There  '. 
a  good  little  maid. 

Bridget.  [Still  standing  on  the  chair]  Put  dowi 
your  head  ;  I  want  to  whisper  to  you.     [He  obeys] 


LITTLE    BRIDGET  55 

[  While  she  whispers,  he  stares  before  him 

in  a  rapt  way,  and  finally  leads  her  from 

the  room,  while  she  still  talks  to  him  in 

an  undertone 

Betty.    Sakes  alive  !     Did  e'er  a  body  see   the 

like  of  that  ?     [  Goes  out,  slamming  door] 

Chloe.    [  Watching  them  out  of  the  room]   Mother ! 

What  is  it?     What  doth  possess  the  child?     Does 

she  always  laugh  and  clap  her  hands  with  wicked 

glee  when  she  sees  Lubin? 

Mistress  W.    [Shaking  her  head]    I  am  distraught. 

It  is  most  strange,  —  most  strange.     Is  she  the  little 

Bridget   we   have   known   these   ten   years?      Here 

comes    Lubin.     Make   up  your   quarrel,    child.      I 

will   help   Betty   with   the   churning   while   you   set 

the  supper. 

[Exit 

Lubin  comes  back,  and  sits  down  in  chimney  corner, 
lost  in  thought.  Chloe  begins  to  lay  the  supper, 
glancing  every  now  and  then  at  him. 

Chloe.  [Impatiently  at  last]  Prithee,  Lubin, 
speak ! 

Lubin.  [Looking  up  in  a  dazed  way]  Speak? 
What  should  I  say? 


56  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Chloe.  [  With  spirit]  'T  were  well  perhaps  to 
ask  my  pardon. 

Lubin.    Your  pardon?    What  have  I  done? 

Chloe.  [In  exasperated  voice]  Done  !  Did  you 
not  talk  to  me  an  hour  or  more  this  morning  about 
another  maid  ? 

Lubin.  \_Passing  his  hand  across  his  eyes']  What 
did  I  say? 

Chloe.  You  said  she  was  as  straight  and  tall  and 
slender  as  a  reed.  You  said  her  eyes  were  like  the 
sea.  You  said  she  danced  to  charm  the  hearts  of 
men.  You  said  she  stretched  out  her  white  hands 
to  you,  and  —  \_In  trembling  voice]  if  you  dared, 
you  'd  take  her  for  your  bride. 

Lubin.  \_In  dreamy  voice]  I  said  this  to  you, 
Chloe? 

Chloe.  You  know  well  you  did !  Dare  you 
deny  it? 

Lubin.    You  are  dreaming. 

Chloe.  [Looking  at  him]  'Tis  you  who  dream. 
Oh,  what  hath  come  to  this  poor  house  ?  What  ails 
my  sister  Bridget  ?  What  ails  you  ?  .  .  .  What  doth 
she  whisper  to  you,  Lubin  ? 

Lubin.  [Starting]  Whisper?  Doth  she  whisper? 
Yes,  but  what  is  it  she  says  ?    I  vow  I  know  not,  Chloe  ! 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  57 

Chloe.  [Angrily,  as  she  puts  lighted  candles  upon 
the  table]  How  dare  you  mock  me?  I  will  not 
bear  it,  sir  !     I  will  not  bear  it ! 

Mistress  W.     [At  door]     Is  supper  set,  Chloe  ? 
Chloe.    [Half  crying]     Yes,  it  is  ready. 
Betty  comes  in  with  disn  which  she  places  on  table. 
Mistress  Willow  and  Chloe  sit  down. 
Mistress  W.    Come,  Lubin  ! 

\_He  rises,  and  comes  slowly  towards  the 
table.      Voice  of  Bridget  heard  singing: 

Sister  Chloe 's  unwed, 

Sing  hey  !     Sing  hey  !  and  be  merry. 

[Lubin  starts   and  stands   listening,  then 
slowly  seats  himself  at  the  table 
Mistress  W.     [Despairingly]    Alack  !    What  can 
this  mean?     Is  the  child  bewitched? 

[As  they  begin  supper,  the  door  at  the  back 
opens,  and  Bridget  peeps  in  for  one 
second,  unobserved 

Curtain 


58  SIX   FAIRY    PLAYS 


Scene  II.     (Same  Room) 

Moonlight  streaming  in  through  casement  windows. 
Door  opens,  and  Bridget  comes  softly  in.  She 
lights  candles  on  the  table,  and  then  laughing  to 
herself  she  begins  to  dance,  and  presently  fling- 
ing the  windows  open,  sings: 

Come,  little  pixy-men,  little  men  in  green, 

Come,  for  the  moon  is  bright. 

Sweep  across  the  dreary  moor,  in  the  starlight  keen, 

Float  through  the  silent  night. 

Rise  from  the  rushes,  in  the  river  deep, 

Crowd  from  the  shadowy  lake, 

Mortals  lie  in  downy  beds,  closely  wrapped  in  sleep, 

Only  the  fairies  wake. 

Pixy-men  have  left  their  dance  in  the  mazy  ring, 
Nearer  they  come,  I  ween, 

Hark !  I  hear  the  rushing  air ;  hark  !  I  hear  them  sing, 
Little  pixy-men  in  green. 

[She  runs  to  the  door,  opens  it,  and  lets  in  a 

crowd  of  pixies 

Bridget.    Welcome,  little   men  in  green !     [She 

seizes  some  of  them  by  the  hands,  and  whirls  them 

roimd  in  a  dance.    Others  run  about  the  room,  laugh- 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  59 

ing  and  chattering  together.  Some  stop  the  clock. 
Some  pull  flax  from  the  spinning-wheel,  and  other- 
wise put  the  room  in  disarray.  Bridget  at  last 
drags  a  high  stool  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  perches 
herself  upon  it,  and  calls :] 

Come,  little  men  !  Come,  Green  Jacket !  Come, 
Red  Cap  !     Come,  White  Owl's  Feather. 

[The  pixies  crowd  round  her,  some  seated 
on  the  floor.     Bridget  speaks  mockingly 

How  is  the  real  Bridget  ?     Dear  good  little  maid  ! 

Green  Jacket.  Still  she  weeps  and  weeps  and 
weeps,  like  autumn  rain. 

Bridget.  [  With  glee']  Tell  me  how  you  caught 
her  !     I  'm  never  weary  of  the  story. 

[Pixies,  speaking  very  fast  one  after  another 

White  Owl's  Feather.    'T  was  her  mother's  fault ! 

Red  Cap.    She  tied  her  sleeves  — 

Green  Jacket.    Yes,  with  green  ribbon  — 

White  Owl's  Feather.  At  the  christening  !  At 
the  christening  ! 

Bridget.  Peace !  Peace !  you  chattering  little 
men.  Green  Jacket,  tell  me  !  All  the  rest  keep 
silence. 

Green  Jacket.  And  so  her  thoughts  were  always 
full  of  fairy  folk.     And  in  the  gloaming,  just  a  week 


60  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

ago,  she  stole  on  tiptoe  to  the  haunted   glen   and 
peeped  between  the  rocks. 

She  saw  us  dancing  in  our  fairy  ring; 
She  listened  to  our  whispers,  heard  us  sing, 
And  so  we  caught  and  held  an  earthly  child, 
While  mortals  are  by  elfin  sprites  beguiled. 

Bridget.  [Laughing]  Thanks  to  the  Pixy-king, 
who  sent  me  in  her  stead,  to  plague  them. 

The  Pixies.  What  have  you  done?  What  have 
you  done? 

Bridget.  Good  little  folk,  I  've  thought  of  every- 
thing !  The  pigs  are  dead.  The  old  mare 's  lame. 
No  fire  burns ;  no  milk  churns.  The  clocks  all  stop, 
the  spinning  is  unravelled  —  and,  oh !  what  a  wicked 
little  maid  is  Bridget !  [Mocking  Mistress  Willow, 
Betty,  and  Chloe] 

"  What  ails  the  little  maid  that  mother  loved  ?  " 

"  Lud  !     What  has  come  to  Mistress  Bridget?  " 

"  Can  this  be  little  sister  Bridget  ?  " 

Ah !  and  that  brings  me  to  the  best  sport  of  all. 
Chloe  has  quarrelled  with  her  Lubin  —  the  foolish 
youth  to  whom  I  whisper  [she  sinks  her  voice]  whisper 
—  fairy  things.  Soon  he  will  forget  all  else  but  fairy 
things. 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  61 

Green  Jacket.  And  so  we  hold  a  mortal  child 
at  last  ! 

Red  Cap.    Ah  !  and  she  dances  now  in  fairy  ring. 

White  Owl's  Feather.  At  morn  and  eve  she 
hears  the  pixies  sing. 

Green  Jacket.  And  she  shall  hear  them  till 
seven  years  are  past. 

Bridget.  Seven  years  is  long  to  mortals.  For 
me  it  is  an  hour,  —  a  merry  hour,  in  which  I  plague 
and  tease  them.  \_She  springs  from  the  high  stool, 
and  the  pixies  move  it  aside~\ 

Come,  little  men  !  Take  hands  in  a  long  line, 
and  we  will  dance  and  make  merry  in  the  mortals' 
home. 

While  all  the  pixies  have  their  backs  to  the  door,  it 
opens,  and  Chloe  stands  on  the  threshold.  She 
pauses  a  moment  in  amazement,  then  darts 
behind  the  high  settle  in  the  chimney  corner.  The 
pixies  and  "  Bridget  "  dance  fantastically. 

Green  Jacket.  \_Laughing~]  Not  for  a  hundred 
years  have  pixy-men  known  sport  like  this. 

Red  Cap.    What  if  the  spell  were  broken  ? 

Bridget.  That  can  never  be.  No  mortal  knows 
of  the  Wise  Woman. 


62  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Green  Jacket.  And  there  are  pixies  even  who 
know  not  where  she  dwells. 

A  Pixy.    I  do  not  know. 

Another.    Nor  I. 

Another.    Nor  I. 

Bridget.  Do  you  not  know?  She  dwells  far  in 
the  forest  by  the  haunted  mere.  And  if  a  young 
maid  visits  her  alone,  at  moonrise,  she  may  learn 
perchance  how  to  recall  a  mortal  child  from  Fairy- 
land. But  no  maid  knows.  We  're  safe !  we  're 
safe,  my  little  pixy-men. 

Green  Jacket.  Hark  !  What  is  that  ?  A  step 
upon  the  stair.     \The  pixies  crowd  towards  the  door] 

Bridget.  Soft !  Wait,  have  no  fear.  I  know  the 
step.     'T  will  make  us  greater  sport. 

The  door  opens  cautiously,  and  Lubin  stands  on 
threshold  with  lighted  candle  in  his  hand. 
Bridget  and  the  pixies  surround  him;  one  of 
them  snatches  the  candle  from  him.  Taking 
hands,  they  dance  round  him  singing : 

Pixy-men  have  left  their  dance  in  the  mazy  ring  ; 
Nearer  they  dance,  I  ween. 

Listen  to  their  whisperings  ;  listen  while  they  sing, 
Little  pixy-men  in  green. 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  63 

[Lubin  stands  dazed,  and  finally  covers  his 
eyes  with  his  hands.  Chloe's  frightened 
face  is  seen  for  a  moment  peeping  above 
the  settle 

Curtain 


Scene    III.     [Same  Room) 

A  month  has  elapsed. 

Lubin  sits  in  the  ingle  nook,  his  arms  folded,  his 
head  bent.  Opposite  to  him,  "  Bridget  "  is 
seated,  a  book  in  her  hand,  out  of  which  she 
pretends  to  be  learning.  Every  now  and  then 
she  glances  across  at  him  and  laughs  silently. 
Mistress  Willow  is  spinning.  All  at  once, 
Mistress  Willow  lays  her  head  on  her  folded 
arms,  and  bursts  into  tears.  "  Bridget  "  springs 
up,  and  begins  to  dance  silently  behind  her,  wav- 
ing her  arms  and  laughing  to  herself  '  As  the 
door  opens,  she  hastily  sits  down  again  and 
buries  her  face  in  her  book. 


64  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Enter  Betty. 

Betty.  Shall  I  light  the  candles?  [Crossing  to 
her]  Mistress  dear,  don't  fret.  She  will  come  back, 
I  vow  she  will.     Mistress  Chloe  will  come  back. 

Bridget.    [Chanting  to  herself] 

Chloe  's  gone  away, 

There  she  will  stay. 

Never  more  will  she  come  back, 

Sing  hey !  sing  hey !  alack  !  alack  ! 

Mistress  W.  Peace,  heartless  maid.  Study  your 
task.  [To  Betty]  Betty,  it  is  a  month  to-night 
she  went  away. 

Betty.  Ay  !  so  it  is.  And  't  is  a  month  ago  that 
I  came  down  o'  five  o'clock  to  light  the  fire,  and 
found  poor  Master  Lubin  sitting  as  he  sits  now, 
staring  at  nothing,  like  some  daft  ninny. 

Mistress  W.    What  can  ail  him,  Betty? 

Bridget.  Nothing  ails  Lubin  !  He  is  my  dear 
kind  Lubin.  He  will  not  talk  to  you  — no  !  But  he 
talks  to  me.  Don't  you,  dear  Lubin  ?  See  !  he  will 
help  me  learn  my  lesson.  [She  goes  and  kneels  down 
beside  Lubin,  who  rouses  a  little,  strokes  her  hair, 
and  they  whisper  together] 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  65 

Mistress  W.  {.Sighing]  Put  the  candles  in  the 
window,  Betty,  and  pull  the  curtains  back. 

Betty.  [Cheerfully]  Yes.  If  she  comes  across 
the  moor  to-night,  she  '11  have  the  candle  gleam  to 
light  her. 

Mistress  W.  Ah  !  we  have  done  all  this  so  many 
times  before,  and  yet  she  never  comes. 

Lubin.  [Sharply,  raising  his  head]  What  step 
is  that? 

Bridget.  \_Putting  her  arms  round  him]  No 
step,  dear  Lubin.  Listen  !  You  shall  hear  me  say 
my  task.  [He  takes  the  book  unwillingly,  and  she 
begins  to  whisper.  Betty  and  Mistress  Willow 
have  exchanged  a^enished glances.  Mistress  Willow 
half  rises  from  her  seat] 

Mistress  W.  Betty  !  he  has  not  spoken  so  for 
weeks.  Is  there  a  step?  Go  to  the  door  and  see. 
[Betty  obeys.  Before  she  reaches  the  door,  Lubin 
again  sharply  raises  his  head  and  tries  to  rise] 

Lubin.  I  know  the  step  !  It  draws  near  across 
the  moor.  It  is  the  step  of  someone  —  [He  passes 
his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  speaks  dreamily] 
Someone  I  have  — 

Bridget.  [Hastily]  Lubin,  listen !  Do  I  say 
it  right  ?  [She  tries  to  pull  him  back  on  to  the  seat, 
3 


66  SIX  FAIRY   PLAYS 

but  at  the  moment  the  latch  rattles.  Everyone  stands 
breathless,  waiting.  The  door  is  flung  open,  and 
Chloe  stands  on  the  threshold,  wrapped  in  a  long 
cloak~] 

Mistress  W.    Chloe ! 

Betty.    Mistress  Chloe  ! 

Lubin.  [Dreamily]  Chloe — [Bridget  holds  him 
tighter.  Mistress  Willow  makes  as  though  she  would 
run  to  her  daughter,  but  Chloe  waves  her  back. 
Leaving  the  door  wide,  she  goes  straight  to  Lubin, 
kneels  beside  him,  and  takes  his  hands] 

Chloe.    Lubin,  look  at  me. 

Bridget.  [  Wildly]  Lubin,  you  promised  just  to 
listen  while  I  say  my  task. 

Chloe.    Say  after  me  these  words : 

Elfin  child,  depart,  depart, 

Take  thy  spell  from  out  my  heart. 

Bridget.    No,  no,  Lubin.     Listen  !  listen  ! 

[Lubin  dreamily  murmurs  the  words,  and 

Bridget  falls  back 
Chloe. 

All  your  cunning  is  in  vain  ; 

Little  Bridget  comes  again. 

[Lubin  repeats  the  words.      With  a  scream, 
Bridget  covers  her  face  with  her  hands 


LITTLE   BRIDGET  67 

and  rushes  out  at  the  open  door.      Wild 
music  sounds  a  moment 
Lubin.    \_In  his  natural  voice']     Chloe,  where  have 
I   been  ?     Oh,  I   have   had  an   evil   dream !      \_He 
kisses  her] 

Chloe.    Hush  !  wait ! 

\_A  voice  outside]     Mother !     Mother  ! 

TJie  real  Bridget  rims  into  the  room,  and  rushes  into 
her  mother's  arms. 

Mistress  W.  ^Incoherently,  as  she  embraces  her] 
What  is  this?  [To  Chloe]  Where  have  you  been, 
my  daughter? 

Chloe.  To  the  Wise  Woman,  mother.  I  've  been 
long  away,  but  —  Wisdom  is  far  to  seek. 

Betty.  Alack  !  'T  was  nothing  but  a  pixy-child. 
I  always  knew  it ! 

Chloe.  The  spell  is  broken,  mother.  She 's 
come  back  to  us.     She  is  our  own  little  Bridget ! 

Curtain 


WHITE    MAGIC 


WHITE    MAGIC 

White  Magic,  like  The  Dream-Lady,  is  more  appro- 
priately played  out  of  doors,  though  it,  too,  can  be 
quite  easily  staged. 

For  general  arrangement  and  points  to  be  con- 
sidered, see  suggestions  for  The  Dream-Lady  which 
apply  equally  to  this,  or  to  any  other  pastoral  play. 
With  regard  to  the  setting,  however,  an  orchard  or  a 
little  plantation  is  more  suitable  than  any  but  a  well- 
wooded  garden. 

Music.  As  in  The  Dream-Lady,  music,  and  always 
the  same  air,  should  herald  the  approach  of  the 
Dryad. 

Dress.  See  remarks  under  this  heading  in  sug- 
gestions for  The  Dream-Lady.  The  Dryad's  robe 
might  be  of  clear  green,  or  of  white,  faintly  clouded 
with  green,  and  she  should  wear  a  chaplet  of  leaves. 

The  goblins  may  be  as  fantastic  as  possible.  The 
colour   scheme   might  be   red,   purple,   and   russet 


72  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

brown  to  suggest  fallen  leaves ;  the  dresses  them- 
selves tight  fitting  and  as  Puck-like  as  may  be. 
Stockings  the  colour  of  the  dress,  worn  over  shoes 
without  heels,  and  stiffened  into  fantastic  points,  are 
effective. 

I  picture  the  fairies  either  in  shades  of  green  which 
will  harmonise  with  the  Dryad's  robe,  or  in  mist-like 
greys  and  blues.  At  any  rate,  they  must  be  poetical, 
not  tawdry,  spangled  fairies. 

As  the  fairies  have  woven  it,  the  dress  of  the 
Princess  must  also  be  poetical.  I  should  preserve 
the  "  lily  "  idea  of  white  and  gold,  with  red  roses  for 
the  hair.  Walter  Crane's  Flora's  Feast,  or  perhaps 
his  Tourney  of  the  Lily  and  the  Rose  may  be  found 
useful. 

If  neither  the  fairies  nor  the  Dryad  can  sing,  they 
may  recite  their  verses  to  the  accompaniment  of  soft 
music,  and  the  fairies'  song  at  the  end  might  be  sung 
"off,"  by  a  clear  voice  or  voices. 


WHITE    MAGIC 

CHARACTERS 

The  Queen.  Prince  Fortunas. 

The  Witch.  Edelbert  (his  cousin). 

Princess  Philomene.        Fairies. 
Goblins. 

Scene.  —  A  wood.  On  the  right,  partly  screened 
by  trees,  is  a  hut  thatched  with  dry  fern. 
Three  crossed  sticks  with  fuel  beneath  them,  near 
the  hut. 

Enter  the  Queen,  a  dark  cloak  covering  her  royal 
dress.  She  glances  hurriedly  from  side  to  side, 
then  knocks  at  the  door  of  the  hut.  Door  opens, 
and  the  Witch  appears.  She  wears  a  steeple  hat, 
under  which  grey  elf-locks  are  seen.  Her  dress 
is  ragged,  her  arms  bare,  and  she  carries  a 
broomstick. 

Witch.    Thrice  welcome,  Queen !     So  you  have 
come  once  more  to  visit  the  old  witch?     \Chuck- 


74  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

ling]  Ah  !  I  thought  you  'd  come.  I  waited  for 
you.  Affairs  go  crookedly  without  a  little  witchcraft, 
is  it  not  so,  my  Queen  ? 

Queen.  Yes,  I  have  work  for  you.  But  [looking 
round  apprehensively]  speak  low,  I  pray  you.  I  fear 
the  very  trees,  lest  they  have  ears. 

Witch.  Fear  nothing,  lady.  Here,  in  the  for- 
est's shade,  we  're  safe  enough.  What  can  I  do  for 
you? 

Queen.  Listen !  Did  you  not  tell  me  once, 
when  first  I  listened  to  your  witchcraft,  that  all  your 
charms  and  spells  had  twice  their  power  if  they  were 
whispered  by  a  maiden  ? 

Witch.  Yes,  lady,  that  is  true.  An  innocent 
young  girl  who  learns  my  spells  and  charms,  can 
work  more  evil  in  a  day  than  I,  with  all  my  pains, 
can  bring  about  in  a  long  year. 

Queen.  And  you  would  gladly  teach  your  spells 
to  such  a  maiden? 

Witch.  That  would  I,  noble  Queen,  with  all  my 
heart.  Think  of  the  mischief  I  could  work  with  such 
a  helpmate ! 

Queen.  And  if  I  find  her  for  you,  will  you  work 
for  me  ?  May  I  count  on  you  for  spells  and  charms 
when  I  have  need  of  them? 


WHITE    MAGIC  75 

Witch.  All  the  mischief  I  can  compass  shall  be 
at  your  disposal,  Queen.     Who  is  the  maiden  ? 

Queen.  \_Lozvering  her  voice]  Philomene,  my 
step-daughter. 

Witch.  \_I11  astonishment]  Princess  Philomene  ! 
Oh,  you  are  rash,  most  noble  Queen.  The  people 
love  her.  What  will  they  say  if  she  is  absent  from 
the  Court? 

Queen.  Hear  me  speak.  You  know  that  Philo- 
mene has  been  from  babyhood  betrothed  to  the 
Prince  Fortunas? 

Witch.  Yes.  'T  was  the  dead  King's  dearest 
wish,  that  much  I  know.  Have  they  met  as  yet,  this 
young  Prince  Fortunas,  and  Princess  Philomene? 

Queen.  Never  as  yet.  But  even  now  the  Prince 
is  on  his  way  from  his  far  kingdom  over  seas,  to 
claim  his  bride. 

Witch.    [Eagerly]     Well? 

Queen.  Old  wife,  the  Prince  is  well  named  For- 
tunas. Rich  he  is,  and  handsome,  and  he  rules  broad 
lands.     His  Queen  will  be  a  woman  to  be  envied. 

Witch.  Ah !  and  you  have  a  daughter  of  your 
own.     Is  that  not  so,  O  wily  Queen  ? 

Queen.  My  daughter  Fredigonde  shall  wed 
Prince   Fortunas.     Hear  my   plan.     The    Princess 


76  SIX    FAIRY   PLAYS 

Philomene,  so  I  have  made  it  known,  has  gone  to 
visit  distant  kinswomen  before  her  marriage.  Thus 
I  shall  silence  babbling  tongues  at  Court.  The  Prin- 
cess Philomene  meanwhile  will  be  with  you,  here  in 
the  forest,  learning  witchcraft. 

Witch.    And  when  the  Prince  arrives? 

Queen.  I  '11  prove  to  him,  and  not  to  him  alone, 
—  to  all  the  subjects  in  my  kingdom,  —  that  their 
beloved  Princess  deals  in  magic,  is  herself  a 
witch. 

Witch.  And  as  there  's  still  another  Princess  at 
the  Court  — 

Queen.  The  Prince  will  marry  Fredigonde  and 
not  Philomene. 

Witch.  \Chuckling\  Well  planned  !  You  should 
have  studied  magic.  There  's  a  good  witch  wasted 
in  your  Majesty.  .  .  .  But  tell  me,  when  will  you 
send  to  me  the  Princess  Philomene? 

Queen.    She  is  here. 

Witch.    [Alarmed']     Here!  but  — 

Queen.  There  's  no  escape.  She  's  blindfolded. 
Stay  but  one  moment. 

[She  disappears  R.,  and  a  minute  later  re- 
enters, leading  the  Princess,  who  is 
dressed  poorly  in  peasants'  clothes.     A 


WHITE    MAGIC  77 

handkerchief  is  bound  over  her  eyes,  and 
her  hands  are  tied  behind  her  back. 
The  Queen  unties  her  hands,  and  re- 
moves the  handkerchief.  The  Princess 
looks  about  her  in  a  dazed  fashion. 

Witch.  Good-morrow, little  Princess !  So  you've 
come  to  school  with  me. 

Princess.    Where  am  I  ? 

Queen.  [Mockingly]  Here  in  the  forest,  which 
you  love  so  much. 

Princess.  [Shrinking  from  the  Witch]  But  this 
—  this  is  a  witch  ! 

Queen.  Do  not  be  jealous,  daughter.  You'll  be 
a  witch  in  time. 

Princess.  \_Imploringly\  You  will  not  leave  me 
here? 

Queen.  Why,  what  is  this  ?  I  thought  you  loved 
the  forest?  Only  yesterday  you  longed  to  leave  the 
palace,  be  a  peasant  maid,  and  live  among  the  trees 
for  ever.  Well,  now  I  grant  your  wish,  give  you  a 
peasant's  dress,  and  still  you're  not  content.  \_To 
Witch]  See  that  the  Princess  studies  well  and 
quickly.  If  she  is  idle,  you  have  the  means  to  make 
her  work.  Soon  I  shall  come  again  to  find  what  she 
has  learnt  from  you. 


78  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Witch.  Yes,  yes.  You  must  not  linger,  lest  they 
miss  you  at  the  palace.  [The  Witch  accompanies 
the  Queen  some  distance  R.,  talking  in  an  undertone] 
Farewell,  my  Queen  ■  farewell.  [Exit  Queen  R., 
turning  once  to  look  back  at  Philomene,  who  in  de- 
spair has  seated  herself  on  a  fallen  log  before  the  hut. 
Witch,  returning,  addresses  her] 

Now,  my  young  mistress,  why  sit  there  and  cry? 
Tears  will  but  spoil  your  pretty  eyes.  Besides,  what 
need  is  there  for  tears  ?  Think  what  a  clever  little 
lady  you  '11  become  !  I  '11  teach  you  to  call  sprites 
and  evil  goblins,  at  your  will,  and  they  shall  work 
for  you  and  do  your  pleasure. 

Princess.  I  will  not  call  the  evil  sprites  and  gob- 
lins !     It  frightens  me  only  to  think  of  them. 

Witch.  Softly,  young  mistress,  with  this  talk,  of 
will  and  won't.  Wait  but  a  little,  while  I  seek 
plants  and  poisonous  weeds  to  make  my  brews. 
Then  you  shall  learn  the  charms. 

[She  begins  to  move  away,  but  as  the  Princess 
springs  from  her  seat  returns']  Oh,  no,  my  pretty 
one !  Think  not  of  escape  !  Should  I  then  leave 
my  treasure  undefended  ?  [Stretching  out  her  broom- 
stick, she  makes  a  wide  circle  in  the  air,  chanting 
meanwhile  .•] 


WHITE    MAGIC  79 

The  magic  ring  I  make 
No  earthly  power  can  break  ; 
Strive,  then,  Princess,  in  vain, 
Till  I  return  again. 

[Hobbles  away,  laughing] 

[  When  she  is  out  of  sight,  the  Princess  runs 

R.  and  L.,  but  is  everywhere  met  by  an 

invisible  barrier.     Finally  she  sits  down 

and    covers  her  face  with   her   hands. 

Soft  strains  of  music,  like  the  singing  of 

birds,  and  the  Dryad  comes  stealing  be 

tween   the   trees.     She   is  crowned  with 

a  chaplet  of  oak  leaves 

Princess.    [Raising  her  head  at  sound  of  music, 

slowly  rises   in  amazement]     Lady  !  .  .  .  Who  are 

you? 

Dryad.  [Smiling]  You  shall  guess.  You  do  not 
know  me,  but  I  know  you  well,  my  little  Princess 
Philomene. 

Princess.  Where  have  you  seen  me  ? 
Dryad.  Here  in  the  forest.  In  the  sweet  spring- 
time, when  I  wake  from  sleep.  I've  watched  you  from 
my  tree.  I  've  seen  you  kneel  beside  my  primroses 
and  kiss  their  crinkled  leaves,  and  stroke  the  silken 
blankets  round  my  baby  ferns* 


So  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Princess.  Do  you  take  care  of  all  the  flowers  and 
ferns  ? 

Dryad.  Yes,  all  the  flowers  and  ferns  and  singing 
birds  are  mine,  and  all  the  gentle  furry  creatures  of 
the  woods. 

Princess.  Ah!  now  I  know  you.  You  are  the 
good  Spirit  of  the  Forest.  Often,  so  often,  sitting 
in  the  sunshine,  I  have  dreamt  of  you. 

Dryad.  But  there  are  dark  things  in  the  forest, 
too.  Adders,  and  snakes,  and  poisonous  roots  and 
flowers. 

Princess.  And  over  these,  the  wicked  Witch  has 
power?  I  see  !  I  see  !  You  are  the  good,  she  is 
the  evil,  Spirit  of  the  Forest.  .  .  .  O  dear  Forest- 
lady,  help  me  to  escape  from  her ! 

Dryad.  I  cannot  break  the  enchanted  barrier  for 
you.  But  never  fear.  You  shall  not  use  her  charms 
and  wicked  spells.  /  7/  teach  you  to  work  magic, 
too,  —  White  Magic. 

Princess.    White  Magic  ?    What  is  that  ? 

Dryad.  \_Smiling\  Only  the  other  side  of  Black 
Magic. 

Princess.    How  can  I  learn  it? 

Dryad.  The  Witch  will  teach  you  spells  and  in- 
cantations.    You  need  but  say  them  backwards,  and 


WHITE    MAGIC  81 

instead  of  evil  sprites,  the  fairies  will  appear.  Sweet 
flowers  will  spring  instead  of  poisonous  weeds,  and 
curses  turn  to  blessings. 

Princess.  But  when  the  Witch  sees  this,  what 
will  she  do  to  me  ? 

Dryad.  Trust  me,  Princess.  The  Witch  shall 
never  harm  you.  .  .  .  See  where  she  comes.  Fare- 
well, and  have  no  fear. 

\_She  glides  back  into   the  forest,  and  the 
music  dies  away  after  her 

Enter  Witch. 

Witch.  Well,  pretty  mistress,  if  you  've  tried  the 
magic  barrier,  we  will  go  within.  See,  I  have  brought 
the  plants  we  need.  Look !  here  is  nightshade. 
This  is  henbane,  and  this,  the  precious  mandrake 
root.  Come,  I  will  show  you  all  their  powers.  Oh, 
what  a  pretty  little  witch  we  '11  make  of  Princess 
Philomene. 

She  opens  the  door  of  hut,  and  the  Princess  slowly 
enters.  Enter  Prince  in  disguise  of  huntsman, 
followed  b^  Edelbert,  his  cousin. 

Prince.  Come,  my  good  Edelbert,  let  us  rest 
awhile. 


82  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Edelbert.  With  all  my  heart.  [They  sit  on  fallen 
log]  Now,  may  I  hope  to  learn  why  we  have  come 
on  foot  from  yonder  town ;  why  you,  my  liege,  are 
thus  disguised  in  huntsman's  dress ;  why  we  have 
left  behind  our  train  of  servitors,  our  wedding  gifts, 
all  our  brave  retinue.  Is  this  the  way  to  woo  a  prin- 
cess ?     Fie  on  you  !     Fie,  my  cousin  Fortunas ! 

Prince.     Edelbert,  I  need  your  help. 

Edelbert.  [Shrugging  his  shoulders]  Speak  on, 
my  liege.     I  am  the  most  devoted  of  your  servants. 

Prince.  Take  horse  and  ride  on  to  the  palace ; 
'tis  close  at  hand.  Say  that  the  Prince  has  been 
delayed  upon  his  journey,  and  will  not  reach  the 
Court  for  a  full  month.  Then  get  what  speech 
you  can  of  Princess  Philomene.  Bring  her  to 
ride  with  you  here  in  the  forest.  Leave  the  rest 
to   me. 

Edelbert.  [Smiling]  But  wherefore?  —  if  I 
may  dare  to  question  with  my  royal  cousin? 

Prince.  It  is  my  pleasure  to  woo  this  princess,  — 
yes,  and  to  win  her,  if  I  can  —  in  this  disguise. 

Edelbert.  You  are  romantic,  Prince  — and  I  am 
idle,  as  you  know.     Yet  I  must  needs  obey. 

Prince.  Do  this  for  me,  good  cousin  Edelbert, 
and  earn  my  thanks.     The  palace  is  at  hand.     Go 


WHITE    MAGIC  83 

take  ray  message ;  see  the  Princess  and  come  back 
to  me. 

Edelbert.  I  go,  my  liege.  But  much  I  doubt 
your  Princess. 

Prince.  [Drawing  from  his  doublet  a  picture, 
which  he  wears  round  his  neck']  Look,  Edelbert ! 
Is  she  the  common  Princess? 

Edelbert.  [Smiling  and  shrugging  his  shoulders] 
Farewell,  my  liege.  Before  the  shadows  lengthen  I 
shall  return  with  news  of  her.  [Exit  Edelbert 

[Prince,  continues  to  gaze  at  the  picture.  Pres- 
ently door  of  hut  opens,  and  the  Prin- 
cess comes  out  with  a  bucket  in  her  hand. 
She  sees  the  Prince,  and  starts  as  though 
she  recognises  him.  Then  she  draws  from 
her  dress  a  miniature  and  glances  from  it 
to  the  Prince,  as  though  comparing  them. 
At  last  she  steals  softly  behind  the  Prince, 
who  has  not  yet  noticed  her,  and  looking 
over  his  shoulder,  sees  her  own  picture 
Princess.  [Under  her  breath]  The  Prince  !  [Re- 
covers herself]     Good-morrow,  sir. 

Prince.  [Starting,  rises  and  looks  wonderingly  at 
her]  Good-morrow,  pretty  maid.  Have  you  dropped 
down  from  the  green  trees? 


84  SIX   FAIRY    PLAYS 

Princess.     [Demurely]     No,  kind    sir.     I  comes 
from  yonder  hut,  to  fetch  some  water  at  the  spring. 
Prince.    Show  me  where  it  lies,  and  let  me  fill 
your  bucket. 

[Exeunt  L.,  the  Princess  pointing  to  the  spring 
[  When  they  are  out  of  sight,  the  Witch  ap- 
pears at  door  of  hut,  shading  her  eyes 
with  her  hand 
Witch.    Where  is  the  girl?     She  's  long  in  com- 
ing.    \  Peering  forward]    Why,  there 's  my  mistress  ! 
.  .  .  and  she  's  not  alone  !     My  lady 's  deep  in  talk. 
.  .  .  Who  can  the  gallant  be  ?     I  '11  summon  all  my 
goblin  sprites,  and  learn  his  name. 

[She  waves  her  broomstick  and  chants. -\ 

Evil  sprites,  thy  help  I  need; 
Swiftly  at  my  bidding  speed. 

Enter  little  goblin  sprites  leaping  a?id  dancing  gro- 
tesquely. They  bow  before  Witch,  and  dance 
fantastically. 

Witch.     [Beckoning  to  one  of  them] 

Malabo,  draw  near  and  see, 
Who  may  yonder  stranger  be. 


WHITE    MAGIC  85 

Sprite. 

Mistress  mine,  beware,  beware ; 
Of  the  Stranger  have  a  care 
Lest  your  power  be  on  the  wane ; 
He  woos  the  Princess  Philomene. 

Witch.    Not  the  Prince  Fortunas ! 

Sprite.    Mistress,  't  is  he. 

Witch.  By  all  ill  omens,  'tis  a  lucky  chance! 
Haste  thee,  my  Malabo.  Transform  me  to  a  raven 
black  as  night.  Then  will  I  to  the  Queen,  and 
bring  her  back  with  me. 

Sprite.    Dare  you  leave  the  Princess? 

Witch.  She  's  safe.  She  cannot  pass  the  magic 
barrier. 

Sprite.    If  the  Queen  comes,  what  then  ? 

Witch.  \Chuckling~\  Then  shall  she  tell  the 
Prince  that  Philomene  's  a  witch,  and  bid  him  watch 
while  his  Princess  calls  hobgoblins  and  spirits  such 
as  you. 

Sprite.    Does  she  know  the  spell  ? 

Witch.  Already  she  has  learnt  it.  She 's  an  apt 
scholar,  this  little  Princess  Philomene.  .  .  .  But 
haste  thee  to  transform  me,  Malabo  ! 

[They  go  out  J?.,  the  sprites  leaping  and 
dancing  round  the  Witch 


86  SIX   FAIRY  PLAYS 

Enter  Philomene  with  the  Prince,  L. 

Princess.  [Apprehensively]  Oh,  I  have  loi- 
tered !  I  fear  the  old  dame's  anger.  [She  runs 
to  hut,  opens  door,  looks  in  and  returns]  She  is 
not  there  !  Can  she  have  gone  to  fetch  fresh  herbs  ? 
\To  Prince]  Am  I  indeed  so  like  the  Princess 
Philomene  ? 

Prince.  If  I  may  trust  her  portrait,  'tis  the 
strangest  likeness  in  the  world. 

Princess.  And  so  you  are  in  truth  the  Prince? 
And  you  would  woo  the  Princess  in  this  guise? 

Prince.  In  very  truth,  my  pretty  maid.  You  Ve 
wrung  my  secret  from  me. 

Princess.  [Smiling]  What  if  I  could  bring  to 
you  the  Princess  Philomene?  Set  her  before  your 
eyes,  here  in  the  forest? 

Prince.  [Laughing]  What  if  the  trees  had  ears 
—  or  if  the  flowers  could  speak  ? 

Princess.  Sire,  't  were  not  so  wonderful.  Here 
in  the  forest,  strange  things  come  to  pass.  Return 
within  an  hour,  and  you  shall  see. 

[  Voice  in  distance  calling']     Hallo  there  !  Hallo  ! 

Prince.  That's  my  friend's  voice.  I  would  not 
leave  you,  pretty  maid,  but  that  I  must  have  speech 


WHITE    MAGIC  87 

with  him.     I  shall  return.     Farewell !     [He  kisses  her 
hand  and  goes  out  Ri] 

Princess.  \_Clapping  her  hands  delightedly]  Oh, 
happy  chance  !  The  Prince  !  The  Prince  !  [Sound 
of  music]     And  listen,  't  is  the  Forest  Lady. 

Enter  the  Dryad.     Philomene  runs  and 
kisses  her  hand. 

Dryad.  Well,  little  Princess !  So  the  Prince  has 
come  ? 

Princess.  He  's  come  !  He  's  better  than  my 
dreams.  But  [indicating  her  ragged  dress]  how  can 
I  prove  to  him  I 'm  not  a  beggar  maid? 

Dryad.  [Smiling]  You  want  a  pretty  dress  to 
greet  your  Prince?     Well,  what  are  fairies  for? 

Princess.  The  fairies !  Yes,  the  fairies  !  And 
I  can  call  them  to  me  now.  But,  dear  Forest  Lady, 
'tis  so  new  to  me.  Will  you  not  call  them?  The 
time  is  passing.     Soon  he  will  return. 

Dryad-    [Sings] 

Rise  from  the  bracken, 
Thistledown,  Thistledown ; 
Rise  from  the  bracken, 
Come  hither  to  me. 


88  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Fly  from  the  green  bough, 
Flower-Foam,  Flower-Foam. 
Fly  from  the  green  bough  ; 
I  wait  here  for  thee. 

Two  little  Fairies  enter,  dancing  lightly. 

Princess.  [  Under  her  breatli\  The  fairies  !  At 
last  I  see  the  fairies ! 

Dryad.    \To  Princess]     Tell  them  your  wish. 

Princess.  [Half  shyly  kneels  on  the  fallen  log,  and 
the  Fairies  come  close  to  her]  Oh,  little  fairies,  my 
Prince  has  come,  and  here  am  I,  clad  like  a  beggar 
maid. 

Thistledown. 

We  will  make  a  fairy  dress 
For  the  beautiful  Princess ; 
White  and  gold  of  lilies  fair, 
Reddest  roses  for  her  hair. 

Flower-Foam. 

Little  elves  shall  weave  and  spin 
Gleams  of  brightest  sunbeams  in, 
And  to  make  her  royal  crown 
All  the  stars  come  crowding  down, 

Thistledown. 

Lilies,  roses,  sun  and  shade, 
Out  of  these  our  robes  are  made, 


WHITE   MAGIC  89 

Thus  we  '11  weave  a  fairy  dress 
For  the  beautiful  Princess. 

[Dancing  round  Philomene,  they  lead  her 
into  the  hut.  The  Dryad  meanwhile  dis- 
appears amongst  the  trees 

Enter  Prince,  with  Edelbert. 

Prince.  What  say  you?  She  is  not  at  the 
palace  ? 

Edelbert.  No,  my  gracious  liege.  And  from  the 
grave  face  of  the  Queen,  and  from  her  nods  and 
becks  and  sighs,  I  know  not  what  to  think. 

Prince.  What  can  be  thought  of  Princess  Philo- 
mene that  is  not  good  and  sweet  ?  Yet  it  is  strange 
she  is  not  at  the  Court. 

Edelbert.  Strange  indeed.  Then,  too,  I  have 
not  told  you  of  the  passing  of  the- bird. 

Prince.    The  bird?    What  bird? 

Edelbert.  Why,  on  a  sudden,  as  I  stood  talking 
with  the  Queen,  a  great  black  bird,  a  raven  as  I 
think,  flew  past  the  casement  window ! 

Prince.    Well !     What  then? 

Edelbert.  The  Queen  grew  pale,  begged  me  to 
pardon  her  —  and  left  me.  Thus  dismissed,  I  straight 
took  horse  again  and  rode  to  you. 


90  SIX   FAIRY  PLAYS 

Prince.    [Suddenly]     See  !     Who  comes  here  ? 

Edelbert.  [Looking]  Prince  !  It  is  the  Queen 
herself.     She  comes  to  seek  you. 

Prince.    How  does  she  think  to  find  me  here  ? 

Edelbert.  That  I  know  not.  .  .  .  Will  you  dis- 
close yourself? 

Prince.    Yes.     I  would  unravel  all  this  mystery. 

Edelbert.    Then  I  will  leave  you  with  her. 

[Bows  to  Queen  and  exit  L. 

Prince.  [Going  forward  and  kissing  Queen's 
hand  when  she  appears]  Madam,  I  am  Prince  For- 
tunas,  as  my  good  cousin  Edelbert  can  vouch. 

Queen.  [Agitatedly]  Yes !  yes !  Do  not  ask 
yet  by  what  a  happy  chance  I  heard  of  your  disguise. 
Prince  !  I  am  here  to  warn  you. 

Prince.    To  warn  me,  madam  ?    Wherefore  ? 

Queen.  Against  your  promised  bride,  the  Princess 
Philomene.  [Impressively]  Listen,  Prince !  She 
is  a  witch ! 

At  the  moment,  the  door  of  the  hut  is  thrown  open, 
and  the  Princess  appears  on  the  threshold, 
clad  in  a  beautiful  robe.  She  comes  out  smil- 
ing till  she  sees  the  Queen,  then  she  draws 
back. 


WHITE  MAGIC  91 

[The  Queen,  at  first  overcome  with  amaze- 
ment, recovers  Jierself,  and  points  to  the 
Princess 

Do  you  doubt  my  word  ?  Look  where  she  stands 
there  in  her  witch's  robe,  all  glittering  like  a  queen. 
But  an  hour  since,  could  you  have  seen  her,  she  was 
a  peasant  maid  — 

Prince.  [Starting]  'T  was  she  herself !  The 
Princess  Philomene  herself.  [Turning  to  her]  Prin- 
cess, you  hear  these  charges.     Tell  me  they  are  false  ! 

Princess.    They  are  false,  my  Prince. 

Witch.  [  Who  has  entered  L.  after  the  appearance 
of  the  Princess  now  steps  forward]  No,  no,  my 
pretty  mistress!  Why  so  modest?  [To  Prince] 
Sire,  for  so  young  a  pupil,  she  is  marvellous.  Would 
you  see  her  work  a  spell  she  knows,  —  a  spell  to  call 
up  evil  sprites  and  goblins  ? 

Queen.    Prince  !     Put  her  to  the  proof. 

Witch.  [To  Princess]  Stay,  stay,  my  pretty 
mistress,  while  I  fetch  the  magic  cauldron,  and  the 
plants  you  need.  'Twere  well  I  waited  on  your 
Royal  Highness  lest  you  soil  your  beauteous  gown. 
[Mockingly]  So,  while  the  old  dame  was  away  my 
pretty  Princess  must  needs  try  her  skill  at  witchcraft  ? 
—  and  with  much  success.     Goblins  and  evil  sprites 


92  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

have  shown  much  taste.     [Pointing  to  the  Princess's 
dress]     Is  it  not  so,  most  noble  Queen  ? 

Queen.  Peace,  dame  !  Later  my  ministers  shall 
deal  with  you.  Go  fetch  the  cauldron,  and  all  you 
need  to  make  your  evil  brews.  \_To  Prince]  Only 
to-day  I  heard  of  whom  the  Princess  learnt  her  spells 
and  charms.  And  much  I  fear  that  by  her  magic 
even  now  the  Witch  will  find  some  means  to  save 
herself. 

[The  Princess  has  come  slowly  forward 

and    stands     silently    waiting.       The 

Prince  goes  to  her  and  takes  her  hand 

Prince.    It  is  not  true,  Princess?    Tell  me  it  is 

not  true. 

Witch.  [Reappears  with  cauldron  and  a  black 
sack]  Wait  but  a  little,  good  my  liege.  Wait  but  a 
little,  and  you  '11  see.  Here  is  the  hemlock  and  the 
mandrake  root,  and  here  [touching  sack]  are  toads 
and  newts  and  vipers  for  our  brew.  Come,  little 
Princess  !     Show  your  powers  ! 

[She  sets  cauldron  on  the  crossed  sticks. 
The  Princess  takes  the  plants  and  scatters 
them  into  it,  then  empties  the  contents  of 
the  sack,  and  makes  magic  passes  over  the 
cauldron-,  whispering  to  herself 


WHITE    MAGIC  93 

Witch.  Yes  !  yes !  The  charm  works  quicker 
when  the  words  are  whispered  low.  Right !  Right, 
my  Princess ! 

[Prince,  standing  apart,   looks  anxiously 
on.     Queen    watches    with    ill-concealed 
delight.     Presently  Princess   raises  her 
head  and  calls  aloud 
All  is  ready !     Come  !     Come  !     Come ! 

[Strains  of  music.  At  the  first  sound  the 
Witch  starts  back,  clinging  to  a  tree. 
Queen  gazes  at  her  bewildered 

Enter  the  Fairies,  singing  and  dancing. 

From  the  wide,  dim  forest  glades 
Where  the  grass  grows  green  and  tall, 
From  the  deepest  leafy  shades, 
We  have  heard  the  fairy-call. 

Words  like  sound  of  falling  rain, 
When  the  birds  begin  to  sing, 
Words  as  soft  as  whispering  leaves 
These  alone  the  fairies  bring. 

[Dancing,  they  presently  disappear  among 
the  trees,  the  music  dying  away  in  the 
distance 
Queen.    [Agitatedly]     What  is  this  ? 


94  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

[The  Dryad.     Music  heralds  her  approach. 

and  at  the  first  sight  of  her  the  Witch 

screams,  covers  her  face  with  her  hands, 

and  rushes  away 

Witch.    [As  she  goes]  Alack !     I  must  be  gone  ! 

I  must  be  gone  ! 

Dryad.    Go,  join  her,  Queen.     Your  wicked  plans 
have  failed. 

[Queen,  drawing  her   mantle   about  her, 

follows  the  Witch 

[To  Prince]    Prince !     Take   your   bride.     Tis 

joy  to  me  that  you  should  woo  her  here,  in  the  forest. 

[To  Princess]    Be  happy,  little   Princess.     And 

in  the  spring,  when  the  sap  mounts  in  all  the  forest 

trees,    when  skies    are   softly   blue,    and    woodland 

flowers  are  opening,  think  c  '  "he  Forest  Lady  waking 

from   her  sleep  to  bless   your  love   through  all  the 

summer  days. 

[Prince  and  Princess  kneel  and  kiss  the 
hatid  of  the  Dryad.     Music  steals  upo?i 
the  air,  as  she  disappears  amongst  the  trees 
Prince.     [Passing  his   ha?id  across  his  eyes  as 
though  dazed]     This  is  a  wonderland  indeed,  Prin- 
cess !    [Looking  at  her]    You  say  you  are  no  witch  ? 
In  very  truth  you  are,  else  how  have  you  bewitched 


WHITE   MAGIC  95 

me?  [Kisses  her]  Come,  my  Princess  !  Work  magic 
all  your  life.  White  Magic,  —  the  Magic  of  the 
Fairies. 

[From  behind  the  trees  the  fairies  come  steal- 
ing. Joining  hands,  they  dance  round  the 
Prince  and  Princess,  as  they  wander 
slowly  away  together,  singing  : 

Words  like  sound  of  falling  rain, 
When  the  birds  begin  to  sing 
Words  as  soft  as  whispering  leaves, 
These  alone  the  fairies  bring. 

\Their  voices  at  last  die  away  in  the  distance 


k 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES 


THE    GIFT    OF   THE    FAIRIES 

This  play,  rather  more  ambitious  and  difficult  than 
the  rest,  perhaps,  might  quite  well  be  acted  by 
grown  up,  though  quite  young  people. 

The  Setting.  It  requires  a  certain  amount  of 
stage  scenery,  though  of  a  fairly  simple  nature.  For 
instance,  it  should  be  quite  possible  to  use  the  same 
materials  differently  arranged  for  workshop  and 
turret-room.  For  the  turret-room  the  whole  scene 
could  be  pushed  closer  together  to  enclose  a  much 
smaller  space  than  that  needed  for  the  workshop. 

Cloudland.  Is  less  difficult  to  manage  than  it 
sounds.  It  should  have  a  background  of  starry 
sky,  a  suggestion  of  fleecy  cloud,  and  the  appearance 
of  being  seen  through  a  mist. 

A  very  thick  dark  curtain  pierced  at  irregular 
intervals  with  holes,  behind  which  lights  are  placed, 
makes  a  beautiful  sky.  If  this  cannot  be  arranged,  a 
painted  night  sky  must  extend  across  the  stage. 


ioo  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

To  produce  the  misty  effect,  a  light  wooden  frame, 
over  which  is  stretched  dark  blue,  or  black  tarlatan, 
should  be  placed  in  front  of  the  stage,  close  to  the 
footlights.  (Such  a  gauze-covered  frame  as  this  is 
often  used  in  tableaux.)  On  the  inside  of  this  frame, 
at  the  top,  white  or  greyish  festoons  of  muslin  or 
gauze  might  be  tacked,  to  suggest  clouds.  The 
floor  should  be  covered  with  something  grey,  and  the 
lighting  should  be  soft  and  moonshiny. 

Dress.  Hints  for  dresses  may  be  gathered  from 
some  or  all  of  the  books  mentioned  under  this  head- 
ing in  suggestions  for  the  D?-eam-Lady. 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE 
FAIRIES 

CHARACTERS 

Hans  (the  clockmaker). 

Gretchen  (his  wife). 

Otto  (their  son). 

The  Princess. 

The  Fairy  Godmother. 

Gertrud  (attendant  to  the  Princess). 

ACT    I 

The  Clockmaker's  Shop.  A  quaint  oak-panelled 
room,  with  small  casement  zvindows.  Tall  clocks 
stand  against  the  walls.  Smaller  clocks  on  tables. 
Seated  at  one  of  these,  the  clockmaker,  in  leather 
apron,  bending  over  the  works  of  a  small  time- 
piece.    A  voice  calling: 

Father !  Father  ! 

Door  opens,  and  Gretchen,  the  clockmaker 's  wife, 
enters.     She  wears  a  full  dark  skirt,  a  velvet 


io2  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

bodice  laced  with  ribbon,  a  handkerchief  folded 
across  her  neck,  and  a  white  frilled  cap. 

Gretchen.     Where's  Otto,  father? 

Hans.  [Angrily]  In  a  mad-house,  for  all  I  know. 
Let  him  keep  out  of  my  sight  awhile  :  't  were  best  for 
him,  I  'm  thinking  ! 

Gretchen.  [  With  a  sigh]  What  has  he  done 
now? 

Hans.  See !  [Showing  works  of  clock]  I  left 
him  this  to  do.  You  'd  think  a  child  had  played 
with  it !  Two  hours  have  I  sat  here  putting  his  work 
to  rights.  Work  he  can  do  better  than  I,  when  he  's 
a  mind. 

Gretchen.  [Sadly]  Ay,  that 's  it.  That 's  the 
strange  thing.  There's  not  a  quicker,  cleverer  lad 
than  Otto  in  this  world  —  when  he  's  a  mind. 

Hans.  Nor  a  bigger  fool  and  gaby  when  he 
has  n't.     [Angrily]    And  all  your  fault,  say  I. 

Gretchen.     My  fault  ?     Why  my  fault  ? 

Hans.  You  know  well  enough.  You,  with  your 
silly  woman's  pride  and  uppishness  !  What  should 
we,  poor  decent  honest  folk,  want  with  a  fairy  god- 
mother? A  fairy  godmother  indeed  !  Leave  lux- 
uries to  sons  of  kings,  I  say.     But  no  !     For  your 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  103 

son,  a  fairy  godmother  —  no  less.  And  what  has 
come  of  it.  I  ask  ?     What  has  she  given  the  boy  ? 

Gretchen.  [Slowly']  The  Fairies'  Gift.  At 
least  that's  what  she  said. 

Hans.  And  what  is  that  ?  What  is  this  precious 
gift?  Does  it  put  gold  in  the  lad's  pocket?  Sense 
in  his  stupid  head  ?  Nine  days  out  of  ten,  the  boy  's 
clean  daft.  He  's  like  one  of  the  figures  on  these 
clocks  of  mine  {pointing  to  them]  moved  by  a  spring. 
He  might  not  be  alive  at  all !  I  tell  you,  wife,  he  is 
a  laughing-stock.  The  whole  town  jeers  at  him  and 
us,  and  asks  what  is  this  precious  gift. 

Gretchen.  [Proudly]  Let  them  jeer.  There  's 
not  a  woman  in  the  town  has  such  a  handsome  boy 
as  Otto.  As  for  the  gift  —  I  don't  know  what  it  is, 
but  I  believe  in  it.  [Going  close  to  her  hiisbcmd  and 
speaking  softly]  Don't  you  remember,  Hans,  how 
nineteen  years  ago  she  came  into  the  room,  —  this 
fairy  godmother.  Otto  lay  in  his  cradle,  fast  asleep, 
but  when  she  came  to  him,  he  opened  his  blue  eyes 
and  smiled.  Then  she  smiled  too,  and  touched  his 
lips,  oh !  you  remember,  Hans !  and  said,  "  Baby,  I 
grant  to  you  the  Fairies'  Gift." 

Hans.  And  she  was  laughing  at  you,  wife  !  The 
boy  is  mad.     For  one   day  that  he  's  sensible   and 


104  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

bright,  the'  're  three  of  dulness  and  stupidity.  Talk 
no  more  to  me  about  the  boy.  I  'm  tired  of  him. 
\He  rises  angrily,  and  goes  toivards  the  door] 

Gretchen.     Are  you  going,  father  ? 

Hans.  Yes ;  up  to  the  palace.  I  have  all  the 
clocks  to  wind  to-day. 

Door  opens  and  the  Princess  enters  in  disguise  of  a 
peasant  girl.  She  wears  a  short  woollen  frock, 
a  velvet  bodice  with  a  white  chemisette.  Red 
carnations  are  in  her  hair.  She  is  followed  by 
an  Attendant,  also  in  peasa?ifs  dress.  The 
Attendant,  who  is  much  older  than  the  Princess. 
nervously  draws  her  hood  about  her  face. 

Princess.    [Gaily]     Good-morning. 

Hans.  [Curtly]  Well,  my  lass,  what  can  I  do 
for  you  ? 

Princess.  [Laughing]  Oh,  you  can  show  me 
all  your  pretty  clocks. 

Hans.  [Gruffly]  We  don't  make  clocks  to 
show  to  idle  wenches. 

Princess.  Ah  !  but  my  mistress  sends  me  here 
to  buy  for  her.  If  you  are  busy,  sir,  perhaps  your 
son.  .  .  .  ?     You  have  a  son,  I  think? 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  105 

Hans.  Ay  !  he  '11  show  you.  Glad  of  an  excuse 
to  waste  his  time,  I  '11  warrant.  [  To  wife]  Call 
him,  mother. 

Gretchen.  [Goes  to  door  L.  and  calls]  Otto  ! 
Otto! 

Hans.  \_At  door  R.]  Mother,  have  you  packed 
the  knapsack  for  me  ?  [Exit 

Gretchen.  [Calling]  Coming,  Hans.  [To  the 
peasant  girl]  Be  seated,  mistresses.  My  son  is 
finishing  a  piece  of  work,  but  he  '11  not  keep  you 
long.     [Calling  again]     Coming,  Hans. 

[Exit 

Gertrud.  [Agitatedly,  when  the  door  closes] 
Princess !  this  is  the  maddest  folly.  [  Wringing 
her  hands]  Oh !  if  the  King,  your  father,  should 
but  hear !  Come  back,  I  do  entreat  you.  What  if 
this  youth  should  know  you  ?  —  see  through  your 
disguise  — 

Princess.  [Laughing  mischievously]  Why  should 
he  ?  The  other  townsfolk  have  not  guessed.  I  am 
a  peasant  maiden ;  nothing  more.  He  will  not  know 
me. 

Gertrud.  Oh,  but  the  risk !  the  risk !  Each 
time  we  come  into  the  city  —  you  in  that  dress  —  my 
heart  is  in  my  mouth. 


106  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Princess.  A  foolish  place  for  any  heart,  Gertrud. 
...  There  is  no  risk.  And  if  there  were,  I  'd 
gladly  run  it,  just  to  live,  and  move.  Oh,  in  the 
palace  there,  I  cannot  breathe ! 

Gertrud.  \Blankly\  I  do  not  understand  your 
Royal  Highness. 

Princess.  [Examining  the  clocks']  No  ?  Well , 
perhaps  I  scarcely  understand  myself.  .  .  .  This  Otto  's 
long  in  coming.  .  .  .  He  's  handsome,  Gertrud  ? 

Gertrud.  [Stiffly]  Your  Highness  said  so,  when 
last  we  came  into  the  town,  and  watched  him  through 
the  window  yonder. 

Princess.  [Laughing]  When  you  wept  tears  of 
fright,  and  begged  me  not  to  enter.  Well,  I  've  had 
my  will  to-day.  Tell  me,  Gertrud ;  you  hear  all  the 
city  gossip.  What  do  they  say  about  this  boy,  this 
Otto? 

Gertrud.    They  say  he 's  mad,  your  Highness. 
Princess.    \Clapping  her  hands\     Oh,  then  I 'm 
very  sure  he  's  charming.     None  of  the  princes  of  the 
Court  are  mad. 

Gertrud.  They  say  the  fairies  came  when  he 
was  christened,  and  so  — 

Princess.  [Interrupting]  Hush,  here  he  comes  ! 
{Door  opens  Z.,  and  Otto  enters.     Princess  glances 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  107 

at  him,  and  then  turns  to  Gertrud]  [  With  mean- 
ing] You  have  marketing  to  do,  Gertrud.  I  will 
not  keep  you.     Return  for  me  in  half  an  hour. 

Gertrud.     [In  distress-]     Oh,  but  — 

Princess.  [Repeats,  smiling]  I  will  not  keep  you. 
[  Under  her  breath,  on  pretence  of  hanging  the  market 
basket  on  the  arm  of  Gertrud]     Go  ! 

[Gertrud  reluctantly  goes  out.  Meantime, 
Otto,  who  has  recognised  the  Princess, 
stands  immovable,  gazing  at  her 

Otto.  [  Under  his  breath]  The  Princess  !  [Be- 
fore she  turns  to  him  again  he  has  recovered  himself, 
and  the  Princess  does  not  know  she  is  discovered] 

Otto.    What  can  I  do  for  you,  fair  mistress? 

Princess.  My  lady  says  you  make  some  curious 
clocks.     She  wishes  me  to  look  at  one  for  her. 

Otto.    Who  is  your  lady  ? 

Princess.    She  is  —  the  Princess. 

Oito.    The  Princess  !     You  are  —  ? 

Princess.  Just  her  little  maid.  A  foster-sister. 
.  .  .  She  .  .  .  she  is  fond  of  me,  I  think. 

Otto.  [Slowly]  That  is  no  marvel.  [Dreamily] 
Is  she  as  beautiful  as  you  ? 

Princess.  [Startled]  You  have  not  seen  her, 
then  ? 


io8  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Otto.  Who  knows  ?  I  see  your  face  and  I  forget 
all  else. 

Princess.  Sir!  .  .  .  these  are  no  words  for 
simple  peasant  maids. 

Otto.  Is  "  peasant  maid  "  the  name  for  stars  and 
flowers  ? 

Princess.  You  jest.  We  spoke  of  the  Princess. 
What  do  they  say  about  her,  here  in  the  city? 

Otto.  They  say  she  is  the  fairest  lady  in  the 
world,  —  and  till  to-day  I  have  believed  them.  They 
say  she  's  merry,  generous,  keen  of  wit  — 

Princess.  [Interrupting]  Do  they  say  that  she 
is  wearied,  wearied  to  death  of  all  the  dreary  Court? 
Do  they  say  she  hates  the  foolish  princes  who  come 
clamouring  for  her  hand? 

Otto.    No  !     Is  it  true  ? 

Princess.  Yes,  it  is  true.  I  know  her  well, 
you  see.  She  tells  me  all  her  secrets.  Oh  !  she 
is  tired,  tired  of  it  all.  Sometimes  she  'd  rather 
be  a  simple  peasant  maid  like  me,  she  says,  and 
live  and  breathe  in  freedom,  than  just  a  mere 
doll,  —  something  to  hang  robes  of  state  and  jewels 
on! 

Otto.  The  Princess,  then,  is  restless  ?  poor 
Princess  ! 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  109 

Princess.  Yes,  and  of  late  she  grows  more  restless, 
harder  still  to  satisfy. 

Otto.    Of  late,  you  say?     Why  so? 

Princess.  Oh !  she  is  foolish,  this  Princess. 
Think !  she  has  jewels,  gold,  a  palace  —  what  you 
will.     Yet  she  is  troubled  by  a  voice. 

Otto.    A  voice  ? 

Princess.  Yes.  Sometimes,  at  night,  she  hears 
a  voice  under  her  window,  —  a  voice  that  sings  of 
love.  And  to  her  fancy  the  singer  is  a  man,  not  a 
poor  shadow,  like  the  princes.  And  day  by  day  she 
hates  the  princes  more,  and  longs  to  meet  the  singer. 

Otto.  \_B ending  over  some  work  of  the  table] 
Has  she  not  seen  him,  then  ? 

Princess.  No.  He  screens  himself  among  the 
myrtles  and  the  orange  trees.  She  only  hears  his 
voice. 

Otto.  But  he  may  be  unworthy  —  not  a  prince 
at  all. 

Princess.  A  prince,  she  says,  he  is,  though  may- 
be in  disguise. 

Otto.  [Bitterly]  Tell  the  Princess  to  have  a 
care.  Some  mad  presumptuous  fool  perchance  sings 
near  her  window. 

Princess.    Ah !  if  she  did  but  know.     [A  pause] 


ltd  SIX  FAIRY  PLAYS 

Otto.    [Suddenly]     Will  you  tell  her? 
Princess.    [Starting]     I  ?    Tell  her  ? 
Otto.    [Taking  down  his  lute  from   the  wall] 
Tell  her  —  yes.     And  bid  her  give  the  madman  a 
dungeon  for  his  folly. 

[He  sings.  At  the  first  line  of  the  song  the 
Princess  starts,  and  in  amazement  keeps 
her  eyes  fixed  upon  Otto 

A  rose  there  is,  high  up  in  sunny  air, 
A  sweet  red  rose  that  hangs  far  out  of  reach  ; 
Yet  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  fair, 
And  nothing  in  this  world  will  wisdom  teach. 

While  roses  sway  high  up  against  the  sky, 
All  their  dear  sweetness  ever  out  of  reach, 
So  long  will  lovers'  hearts  beat  high,  beat  high, 
And  nothing  in  this  world  will  wisdom  teach. 

There  hangs  the  rose,  and  here  the  lover  stands, 
All  that  he  loves  for  ever  out  of  reach, 
Stretching  in  vain,  in  vain,  his  empty  hands, 
And  nothing  in  this  world  will  wisdom  teach. 

[At  the   last  line  the  Princess   starts  to 
her  feet 
Princess.    {Incoherently]      You  —  ? 
Gertrud    [At  door,  agitatedly]     Princess ! 
Curtain 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  III 

ACT    II 

A  week  later 

Scene  —  A  turret-room.  The  Fairy  Godmother,  a 
little  old  lady  with  zvhite  hair,  sits  spinning  by 
the  fire.  She  wears  the  traditional  dress  of  a 
fairy  godmother.     A  knock. 

Godmother.    Come  in ! 

Enter  Princess,  this  time  dressed  as  befits  her  rank, 
but  covered  with  a  long  cloak,  which  she  throws 
aside. 

Godmother.  [Briskly,  concealing  a  smile']  Well, 
god-daughter.  What  brings  you  here  ?  Fresh  mis- 
chief, I  '11  be  bound. 

Princess.  [Evasively]  Oh,  godmother,  —  the 
princes  are  so  dull ! 

Godmother.  And  so  you  toiled  up  all  these  stairs 
to  tell  me  that !  How  thoughtful  of  you  !  .  .  .  What 
have  you  done  to  mitigate  their  dulness  ? 

Princess.  [Demurely"]  You  use  such  long  words, 
godmother,  ...  I  only  went — > 


ii2  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Godmother.  Into  the  town  —  to  seek  a  prince 
of  your  own  choosing. 

Princess.  No  !  really.  Only  to  —  to  —  seek 
adventure. 

Godmother.  Well  !  to  do  him  justice,  Otto  is  a 
very  fair  adventure  —  a  handsome  lad. 

Princess.  [Startled]  How  did  you  know? 
[Pettishly]  Oh !  I  forgot  you  were  a  fairy.  [A 
pause,  during  which  the  Princess  nervously  plays 
with  the  fiax  on  the  spinning-wheel  —  then  breaks 
out  suddenly]  He  may  be  handsome,  but  I  hate 
him  !  There 's  no  one  in  this  world  f  hate  so 
much  ! 

Godmother.  [Still  ironically']  Poor  Otto  !  He 
always  seemed  to  me  a  kindly  lad.  The  weakness 
of  a  godmother,  no  doubt. 

Princess.    f  Surprised]      You  his  godmother? 

Godmother.  Yes.  His  mother  calied  me.  I  go 
where  I  am  bidden,  as  you  know,  and  sometimes 
those  who  call  me  rue  the  day.  But  that 's  beside 
the  mark.  You  have  not  told  me  yet  why  you  hate 
Otto. 

Princess.    I  —  I  can't. 

Godmother.  Let  me  see.  Some  weeks  app  you 
iressed  yourself  in  peasants'  clothes  (they  are  be- 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  113 

coming,  I  admit)  and  wandered  through  the  town. 
There  you  saw  Otto  —  working,  for  a  wonder. 
Another  day,  you  ventured  in,  and  he  made  love 
to  you  — 

Princess.  {Interrupting  Yes,  he  did  !  he  did ! 
His  was  the  voice  I  heard.  The  voice  I  never  can 
forget.     And  now  — 

Godmother.    You  went  a  third  time  ?     Well  ? 

Princess.  He  was  quite  changed.  He  answered 
"yes  "  and  "  no."  He  —  he  —  I  think  he  had  for- 
gotten me. 

Godmother.  [Reflectively]  Yet  a  princess  who 
one  morning  walks  into  a  workshop  should  make 
some  impression. 

Princess.  [In  tears]  Godmother,  why  do  you 
laugh  at  me  ? 

Godmother.  \_Patting  her  hand kindly]  There! 
there,  my  child,  don't  cry.  The  silly  boy  is  desper- 
ately in  love. 

Princess.    [Joyfully]     Really  ?    Then    why  ?  — 

Godmother.    He  was  not  there  at  all. 

Princess.    Not  there  ?     But  — 

Godmother.  I  know  you  thought  you  saw  him. 
But  it  was  not  Otto.  He  had  escaped  —  gone  to 
the  Magic  Country. 


U4  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Princess.    The  Magic  Country  ?    Where  is  that  ? 

Godmother.  Ah!  can  I  make  you  understand? 
You,  who  have  not  the  Fairies'  Gift. 

Princess.    Tell  me.     I  can  try. 

Godmother.  Well  —  when  he  pleases,  Otto  has 
the  power  to  go  away,  into  the  Magic  Land,  leaving 
a  sort  of  ghostly  Otto  in  his  place.  A  being  with 
his  form,  his  voice,  his  look  —  but  not  his  mind. 
At  this  very  moment,  I  've  no  doubt,  Otto  is 
seeking  you  in  forests,  or  by  lone  seashores,  or  in 
the  stars.  Anywhere,  in  fact,  but  where  he  might 
be  meeting  you  —  here  —  in  the  World  of  Every 
Day. 

Princess.  [Wonderingly]  Is  that  the  Gift?  It 
is  —  uncomfortable. 

Godmother.  [Drily]  Most  gifts  are.  But  mor- 
tals should  not  call  in  fairy  godmothers.  .  .  .  Listen  ! 
I  hear  a  step  upon  the  stairs. 

Princess.  I  '11  run  and  see.  [She  goes  out,  and  a 
momeiit  later  returns,  speaking  excitedly']  God- 
mother !  It 's  Otto  !  He  's  coming  up  and  up  the 
winding  stairs.     He  did  not  see  me  — 

Godmother.  [Opening  door  into  inner  room] 
Wait  in  there.  When  this  clock  strikes  seven,  and 
not  before  —  come  out. 


THE   GIFT  OF   THE   FAIRIES  115 

Princess.  Yes  —  yes  —  dear  godmother.  \Has- 
tily  closes  door  after  her.     A  knock'] 

Godmother.  Come  in  !  [Otto  enters.  He 
kneels  and  kisses  her  hand]  Well,  godson !  You 
look  gloomy.     What  is  wrong  with  you  ? 

Otto.    Everything ! 

Godmother.  Dear  !  dear  !  Tragedies  should  be 
thoroughgoing,  I  admit. 

Otto.  Godmother !  I  want  you  to  take  back 
the  Fairies'  Gift. 

Godmother.    Take  back  the  Gift?     But  why? 

Otto.    What  does  it  bring  to  me  but  misery  ? 

Godmother.  Well,  I  don't  know.  A  mere  prin- 
cess, perhaps  ? 

Otto.  Do  not  mock  me  !  /  to  love  a  princess  ! 
Oh,  no  doubt  she  mocks  me  too ! 

Godmother.  I  should  find  out,  if  I  were  you. 
Since  that  delightful  little  concert  in  the  workshop 
yonder,  where  have  you  been?  Here,  or  in  the 
Magic  Country  ?     Out  with  it ! 

Otto.    In  the  Magic  Country  —  dreaming  of  her. 

Godmother.    A  very  helpful  occupation. 

Otto.  No.  Do  not  laugh  at  me.  Only  take 
back  the  Gift.  Then  I  shall  be  content  as  others  are 
*—  forget  the  Princess,  find  the  Real  World  sweet  — 


Ii6  SIX   FAIRY    PLAYS 

marry   some   peasant   maid.      Only   take   back   the 
Gift. 

Godmother.  I  cannot,  even  if  I  would.  A  fairy 
gift,  bestowed  at  birth,  can  never  be  recalled. 

Otto.  [Bitterly]  A  gift  ?  A  gift,  you  say  !  It 
is  a  curse. 

Godmother.  Be  that  as  it  may,  't  is  yours  for 
ever.  [She  looks  at  clock,  rises,  a?id  puts  her  hand 
on  Otto's  shoulder]  Stay  here  for  me,  until  the 
clock  strikes  seven,  then  I  will  come  again  to  talk  of 
this.  I  have  a  charm  that  must  be  written  before 
the  moon  rises.  Wait  till  I  return  —  [Mockingly'] 
if  you  can  bear  the  Real  World  for  so  long  ! 

[She  enters  the  inner  room.  Otto  wanders 
restlessly  about,  and  presently  discovers 
a  miniature  of  the  Princess.  He  takes 
it  7i p  and  kisses  it 

Otto.  [To  himself  ~\  My  Princess!  The  Prin- 
cess who  is  only  mine  in  my  own  Magic  Country. 
[Looking  despairingly  round  the  room']  I  cannot 
stay  here,  in  this  dull  Real  World,  i  will  go  seek 
her  in  the  Land  of  Dreams. 

He  leans  slowly  back  in  his  chair,  and  lets  his  head 
sink  upon  his  breast.  The  clock  strikes  seven. 
At  the  last  stroke,  the  Princess  enters. 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  117 

Princess.    '[Demurely]     Good  evening,  Otto  ! 

Otto.  \_Raises  his  head  slowly,  and  looks  at  her, 
then  speaks  as  in  a  dream]     Good-evening,  mistress. 

Princess.  \_Almost  in  tears]  Do  you  not  know 
me? 

Otto.  \_I11  dull  mechanical  voice']  I  —  I  —  can- 
not remember  — 

By  this  time  the  Fairy  Godmother  has  e?itered.  She 
stands  in  the  background,  and  the  Princess  turns 
to  her,  crying. 

Princess.    Oh,  godmother,  this  is  not  Otto. 

Godmother.  Escaped  again?  And  here  stands 
the  Princess  !  [Chuckling]  Well!  it  serves  him 
right.     It  serves  him  right. 

Princess.  Oh,  godmother  !  I  am  so  miserable, 
and  yet  you  laugh. 

Godmother.  Forgive  me,  child  !  Merely  a  most 
unlucky  sense  of  humour.  It  would  have  ruined  me, 
I  must  admit,  had  I  been  mortal.  \_To  Otto]  Sir,  if 
your  machinery  will  carry  you  thus  far,  there  is  the 
door.  Good-day.  \_To  Princess]  Habit  makes  one 
civil,  even  to  a  lay  figure. 

Otto.  \_In  dull  voice]  Good-day,  mistress,  good- 
day.    [Goes  out  slowly] 


n8  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Godmother.  \To  Princess]  Come,  come,  my 
child.  If  you  had  been  a  Fairy  Godmother  as  long 
as  I  have,  you  'd  find  it  best  to  laugh. 

Princess.  But,  godmother,  if  Otto  lives  only  in 
the  Magic  Country,  and  I  am  always  in  the  World 
of  Every  Day,  we  cannot  meet. 

Godmother.  Who  knows?  Otto  is  not  quite  a 
fool.  I  've  hopes  of  him.  Or  you  might  try  to  find 
him  in  the  Magic  Land.  A  little  of  the  Magic  Coun- 
try would  not  hurt  you. 

Princess.     [Eagerly]    How  can  I  get  in  ? 

Godmother.  Ah  !  You  must  find  the  gate  your- 
self. With  Otto,  the  workshop  walls  slip  all  too  easily 
away,  and  he  steps  out  at  will  into  the  Magic  Land, 
on  to  a  yellow  shore,  it  may  be,  where  the  waves  are 
breaking,  or  into  the  green  heart  of  some  great  forest. 
But  then  he  has  the  Gift. 

Princess.    Oh,  godmother,  can  I  not  have  it  too? 

Godmother.  [Smiling]  No,  no,  my  child.  It 
is  bestowed  at  birth.  I  cannot  give  it  later.  But  you 
may  learn  —  there  are  so  many  ways  into  the  Magic 
Land,  and  when  princesses  are  in  love  —  [She 
laughs'] 

Princess.  Can  you  not  help  me  then  by  any 
charm  ? 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  119 

Godmother.  Certainly,  here  is  a  book  full  of 
them. 

Princess.  [Looking  at  it]  Why,  this  has  Otto's 
name  upon  it !     Does  Otto  then  write  books  ? 

Godmother.  He  is  a  poet.  [Mysteriously]  That 's 
what 's  the  matter  with  him. 

Princess.  [Bending  over  an  open  page]  Oh  !  but 
I  would  not  have  him  cured.  See  !  This  is  beautiful 
—  [She  eagerly  points  to  one  of  the  poems] 

Godmother.  I  think  you  '11  find  your  way  into 
the  Magic  Land,  Princess. 

[The  Princess  stands  absorbed,  reading, 
■while  the  Fairy  Godmother  regards  her 
with  a  smile 

Curtain 


tao  SIX   FAIRY    PLAYS 


ACT   III 

Scene. —  Cloudland.  Part  of  the  Magic  Country. 
White  hazy  clouds,  with  a  background  of  sky 
and  stars.     A  faint  light  as  of  the  moon. 

Otto,  with  his  lute,  sings : 

Into  the  World  of  Dreams, 
Floats  my  Princess, 
Stars  in  her  dusky  hair, 
A  white  cloud  for  her  dress. 

Through  the  glimmering  moonlit  haze. 
See,  she  draws  nigh ; 
Love  wings  her  flying  feet 
Through  the  trackless  sky. 

See,  she  rises  ever  higher, 
To  my  dwelling  fair, 
A  palace  built  of  moonlit  clouds, 
My  castle  in  the  air. 

\At  the  last  words  he  rises,  stretching  out  his 
hands  to  the  Princess,  who  comes  dressed 
in  trailing  cloudy  white,  stars  in  her  hair, 
stars  shining  as  though  entangled  in  her 
dress 


THE    GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  121 

Otto.  Welcome,  my  Princess  !  You  bring  the 
stars  with  you,  and  all  the  radiance  of  the  moonlight. 
It  was  not  hard  to  find  the  way? 

Princess.  No.  It  grows  easier  now.  I  did  but 
think  of  moonlit  skies  and  stars,  and  then  the  palace 
walls  melted  away,  and  soon  I  heard  your  voice,  my 
Otto. 

Otto.  Ah  !  when  you  speak  it  is  so  easy  to  de- 
ceive myself,  and  think  you  are  indeed  the  Princess. 

Princess.    As  indeed  I  am  ! 

Otto.  [Shaking  his  head]  No,  no.  Only  a 
Dream  Princess  who  does  not  live,  out  of  the  Magic 
Country. 

Princess.  [Earnestly]  Otto,  believe  me,  I  am 
the  Princess,  and  no  vision  of  your  own  imagining. 
If  I  am  in  the  Magic  Country,  't  is  because  you  wish 
it  so. 

Otto.  [Smiling]  Do  I  not  know  how  I  should 
see  you  in  the  World  of  Every  Day  ?  I  should  be 
standing  in  the  crowd  as  you  drove  past,  and  maybe 
you  would  throw  a  careless  glance  upon  "mad  Otto," 
—  the  fool  who  dares  to  love  a  princess. 

Princess.    Speak  no  treason  of  Prince  Otto,  sir  ! 

Otto.    Prince  Otto? 

Princess.    Did  I  not  tell  you  he  was  in  disguise  ? 


122  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Orro.    Speak  plainly  to  me. 

Princess.  He  is  a  poet.  Therefore  a  prince  of 
nobler  birth  than  any  at  the  Court. 

Otto.  [Sighing]  Ah,  this  Magic  Land !  This 
Dream  Princess!     She  is  too  sweet,  too  kind. 

Princess.  [Persuasively^  In  the  Real  World, 
Otto,  she  is  no  less  kind. 

Otto.    Now  she  is  cruel,  for  she  mocks  at  me. 

Princess.  But  will  you  never  seek  her  in  the 
World  of  Every  Day? 

Otto.  Never.  Why  should  I  waken  from  a  dream 
so  sweet? 

Princess.  Then  we  shall  meet  only  in  the  Magic 
Country. 

Otto.    Only  here. 

Princess.  [After  a  pause,  breaking  into  a  laugh~\ 
Oh,  Otto,  Otto,  you  are  too  absurd  !  Here  am  I, 
real,  real,  no  Dream  Princess.  I  am  alive  and  wait- 
ing for  you  in  the  World  of  Every  Day.  And  there 
you  stand  and  shake  your  head,  and  tell  me  I  'm  a 
dream ! 

OTro.  [Putting  his  ar?n  round  her]  You  are  the 
realest  Dream  Princess,  in  any  Magic  Country  ! 

Princess.  [Half  crying]  Otto,  in  the  Real 
World  we  might  be  happy  too. 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  123 

Otto.  In  the  Real  World,  for  me,  there  's  no 
Princess. 

Princess.  [Hopelessly]  What  can  I  say?  My 
words  are  useless.  .  .  .  Sing  me  one  farewell  song 
before  I  go. 

Otto.    Go  ?    You  will  go  ? 

Princess.  In  the  Real  World  there  is  much  to 
do ;  you  have  forgotten  that.  A  princess  cannot 
stay  for  ever  in  the  Magic  Land ;  she  has  her  duties. 

Otto.  \_Slowly,  as  though  to  himself]  In  the 
Real  World  there  is  much  to  do.  Yes,  I  had  for- 
gotten that. 

Princess.    Sing  to  me  once  and  let  me  go. 

Otto.  I  cannot  keep  you.  Well  I  know  that  fair 
dreams  vanish  when  they  will.     [Strikes  his  lute] 

Back  to  the  moonlit  sky, 
Go,  Princess  of  Dreams; 
Here  I  am  left  to  sigh 
By  magic  streams, 

Streams  which  flow  to  magic  seas 
Swayed  by  no  tide, 
By  whose  shores  all  vain  desires 
Grow  satisfied. 

He  kneels,  kisses  the  hem  of   the  Princess's  dress, 
and  she  sorrowfully  leaves  him.     Otto  stands 


124  SIX    FAIRY   PLAYS 

gazing  after  her.  While  he  is  standing  so,  the 
Fairy  Godmother  enters  tmperceived,  and  as 
he  turns,  sighing,  he  confronts  her. 

Godmother.  [Sharply]  Now,  godson,  don't  pre- 
tend you  're  glad  to  see  me,  for  that 's  absurd. 
You  thought  yourself  secure,  —  here  in  this  precious 
country  of  your  own  imagining.     Am  I  not  right? 

Otto.    [Confused]     Well,  yes  —  I  — 

Godmother.  You  forgot  you  had  a  fairy  for  a 
godmother !  But  bless  the  boy !  You  've  left  the 
Real  World  far  enough  behind,  and  no  mistake. 
Fairy  as  I  am,  I  found  it  hard  enough  to  follow  you. 
Yet  the  Princess  comes,  I  see. 

Otto.    Yes,  godmother. 

Godmother.  Poor  child,  she  must  be  desperately 
in  love. 

Otto.  Is  it  kind  to  speak  as  though  she  loved 
me  ?    You,  who  know  well 't  is  nothing  but  a  dream. 

Godmother.  [Tapping  her  wand  angrily  on  the 
ground~\  And  if  it  is  a  dream  what  right  have  you 
to  dream  it  ?  Shame  on  you,  my  godson  !  Shame 
on  you  !  If  I  bestowed  on  you  the  Fairies'  Gift, 
was  it  that  you  might  use  it  in  fashion  such  as  this  ? 
The  Magic  Land   is  well  enough,  but  there  's  the 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  125 

Real  World  too.  Oh,  it  is  fine  to  live  up  in  the 
clouds  like  this,  no  doubt.  But  there  below,  your 
father  growls,  your  mother  weeps.  And  little  won- 
der when  she  hears  the  neighbours  sneer  and  scoff ! 
Yes,  now  you  clench  your  fists.  But  fists  are  useless 
up  among  the  clouds.  And  then  the  Princess  — 
[She  breaks  off  suddenly] 

Otto.  [In  a  shamed  voice]  Say  nothing  of  the 
Princess.  She  takes  no  thought  of  me  [bitterly] 
except,  no  doubt,  to  scoff,  as  all  the  neighbours 
do. 

Godmother.  And  even  so,  would  you  be  worthy 
of  her  if  she  cared  for  you  ?  Think  you  a  woman 
—  princess  or  peasant-maid  —  is  proud  to  have  a 
mooning,  selfish,  helpless  lover,  such  as  you  've 
become? 

Otto.  [After  a  pause]  Godmother,  you  are 
right.     I  am  ashamed. 

Godmother.  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it !  .  .  .  Now  will 
you  make  and  keep  one  promise  ? 

Otto.    If  I  can. 

Godmother.  It  will  be  hard,  but  you  can  do  it. 
For  a  whole  year  you  promise  not  to  leave  the 
World  of  Every  Day.  Not  once  must  you  set  foot 
upon  the   Magic  Land. 


126  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Otto.  \_Slowly\  Not  once  to  see  the  Princess 
in  my  dreams. 

Godmother.  \_Drily\  You  've  taught  her  to 
come  here.  Now  she  has  learnt  the  road,  you  can- 
not hope  to  find  her  in  the  World  of  Every  Day. 

Otto.  \Slowly\  No.  I  shall  never  find  her. 
But  I  begin  to  see  that  if  one  loves  a  princess  one 
must  not  be  an  idler  and  a  coward.  [Kisses  hand 
of  Godmother]  Come  !  Let  us  go  back,  then,  to 
the  World  of  Every  Day. 

Curtain 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  127 


ACT    IV 

Scene.  —  Ttie  workshop.  A  year  has  elapsed. 
Gretchen  is  dusting  the  clocks  and  putting 
things  in  order. 

Door  opens   to  admit  Hans,  who  carries  a 
bag  of  tools. 

Hans.  [  With  gratification  in  his  tone"]  Well, 
wife,  I  've  news  !  One  of  the  princes  at  the  Court 
has  bought  the  clock  our  Otto  made. 

Gretchen.    [Delightedly]     Not  really,  Hans ! 

Hans.  Yes,  and  he  wants  another.  All  the  fine 
ladies  of  the  Court  were  praising  it  to-day.  They 
say  it 's  wonderful  —  oh,  and  I  know  not  what ! 

Gretchen.  [Proudly]  Ah  !  he  is  wonderful. 
Has  he  not  altered,  Hans? 

Hans.  [Setting  to  work  at  the  table]  Yes,  he  's 
got  his  wits  about  him  now,  I  must  admit. 

Gretchen.  Wits  !  I  should  think  so.  [Laugh- 
ing] Never  shall  I  forget  how  Fritz,  the  cobbler, 
stared  when  Otto  turned  upon  him  one  fine  day  and 
challenged  him  to  fight.     That  was  a  year  ago.     Not 


128  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

once  since  then  has  he  been  dull  and  stupid  as  he 
used  to  be. 

Hans.  That  reminds  me,  wife.  I  heard  some 
news  up  at  the  palace. 

Gretchen.    What  was  that  ? 

Hans.  It  may  be  silly  gossip,  like  enough.  Yet 
when  I  heard  it  I  could  but  think  of  our  boy,  Otto. 

Gretchen.    Why  of  Otto  ? 

Hans.   They  say  the  Princess  is  bewitched. 

Gretchen.    Bewitched!     What  do  they  mean? 

Hans.  Why,  for  a  whole  year  past,  she  's  lived 
and  moved  as  in  a  dream,  —  just  as  our  Otto  did. 
before  his  senses  came  to  him. 

Gretchen.  Poor  pretty  lady !  Do  you  think 
it 's  true  ? 

Hans.  [Shrugging  his  shoulders]  Who  knows  ? 
The  King,  they  say,  is  half  distracted.  All  the 
Court  physicians  have  been  called  in  vain.  At  last, 
so  rumour  says,  the  King  sent  for  his  daughter's 
Fairy  Godmother. 

Gretchen.  He  should  have  thought  of  her  be- 
fore.    She  is  a  powerful  fairy.     What  did  she  say  ? 

Hans.  She  said  the  spell  was  of  such  strength 
that  only  the  mightiest  of  magicians  could  release 
the  Princess. 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE    FAIRIES  129 

Gretchen.    Have  they  found  the  wizard  ? 

Hans.  Not  yet.  The  Fairy  knows  his  name, 
they  say,  but  will  not  tell  the  King  until  he  swears 
to  give  his  daughter's  hand  in  marriage  to  her 
deliverer. 

Gretchen.    Poor  little  Princess  ! 

A  rap  at  the  door.  Gretchen  opens  it,  and  ad- 
mits the  Fairy  Godmother.  Gretchen,  over- 
whelmed with  surprise,  curtsies  low.  Hans 
rises  and  makes  an  awkward  bow. 

Godmother.  Well,  my  good  people  !  Have  you 
heard  the  news? 

Gretchen.    No,  gracious  lady. 

Godmother.  Your  walls  are  thick.  The  town  is 
ringing  with  it.  Go  out,  and  you  will  hear  the  clash- 
ing of  the  bells. 

Hans.    What  is  it,  lady  ? 

Godmother.  The  King  will  give  his  daughter's 
hand  in  marriage  to  the  mightiest  magician  in  his 
kingdom. 

Hans.    Can  he  be  found,  most  gracious  lady? 

Godmother.  Of  course  he  can.  Else  why  do 
I  come  here  ? 

Hans.    \_Stammering\     Here  f 

5 


130  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Godmother.  Why,  bless  the  man,  of  course ! 
Is  not  your  son  a  poet? 

Hans.    Otto  ! 

Godmother.  Otto,  to  be  sure.  Did  n't  you  hear 
me  grant  to  him  the  Fairies'  Gift  ? 

Hans.  [In  dazed  voice]  I  did,  most  noble  lady. 
But  — 

Godmother.  Ah !  You  do  not  understand ! 
Well,  well,  how  should  you?  And  you  were  right 
quite  right,  to  keep  him  to  his  clockwork.  Now  he  '* 
a  credit  to  you,  and  I  'm  glad  of  it.  [She  shakes  the 
cloekmaker 's  hand] 

[Turning  to  Gretchen  with  a  smile]  As  for  you 
—  well !  you  're  his  mother,  that 's  enough  to  say. 
Now  may  I  see  my  godson? 

Hans.  {Going  to  door]  I'll  send  him  to  you, 
lady. 

[  When  her  husband  has  gone,  Gretchen 
hurriedly  kisses  the  hand  of  the  Fairy 
Godmother 

Gretchen.  I  knew  it  was  a  precious  gift  you  gave 
my  boy.  I  was  content  to  wait.  [Goes  out,  wiping 
her  eyes  with  her  apron] 

A  moment  later  Otto  enters. 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  131 

Otto.  Godmother!  What  does  this  mean?  Is 
my  father  mad  ? 

Godmother.  {Ironically]  Ah  !  now  I  see  you  're 
reasonable  indeed. 

Otto.    \Laughing\     I  pray  you,  tell  me. 

Godmother.  There  's  nothing  more  to  tell.  Bring 
back  the  Princess  from  the  Magic  Land,  and  she  is 
yours  —  as  she  has  always  been. 

Otto.    {Incredulous']    Godmother !    Is  this  true  ? 

Godmother.    Try. 

Otto.  Then  I  may  go  and  seek  her  in  the  Magic 
Land?  [Softly]  It  is  a  year,  a  year  to-day,  since 
I  have  seen  it. 

Godmother.  No  ;  you  must  call  her  to  the  World 
of  Every  Day.  While  you  've  been  toiling  in  the 
workshop,  she,  poor  child,  has  wandered  through  the 
Magic  Land  in  vain. 

Otto.  My  poor  Princess  !  How  shall  I  bring  her 
back? 

Godmother.  You  know  best.  You  have  n't 
studied  common  sense  a  whole  long  year  for  nothing. 
Call  your  Princess.  She  '11  find  her  lover  worthy 
of  her  now. 

[Otto  kneels  and  kisses  her  hand,  and  the 
Fairy  Godmother  goes  out,  smiling  at 


132  SIX  FAIRY    PLAYS 

him.      Otto  hesitates  a  momen     then 
takes  his  lute,  and  sings  : 

Come,  dear  my  love,  cut  of  the  World  of  Dreams, 
Linger  no  more  by  the  enchanted  streams, 
Leave  the  pale  glimmering  clouds  and  come  away 
Back  to  the  love-lit  Land  of  Every  Day. 

Here  in  the  Real  World  now,  your  lover  stands, 
Let  him  not  stretch  in  vain  his  empty  hands, 
Ah,  sweet  red  rose,  no  longer  out  of  reach, 
The  Real  World  with  its  work  doth  wisdom  teach. 

As  he  sings  the  last  line,  the  door  is  flung  open  and 
the  Princess  appears  in  her  Dream- Country 
robe  of  trailing  white,  with  stars  in  her  hair. 

Otto.  [Starting  up,  cries  joyfully]  Princess ! 
\_He  runs  towards  her,  and  puts  both  arms  round 
her] 

Princess.  Otto,  I  heard  your  voice,  even  in  the 
Magic  Land.  See  !  [pointing  to  her  dress]  I  came 
straight  to  you,  out  of  the  Dream-Country. 

\A  s  she  speaks,  the  workshop  grows  flooded 
with  sunlight 

Otto.  [Pointing  to  the  walls]  S?e  !  See  !  my 
Princess  I 


THE   GIFT   OF   THE   FAIRIES  133 

Princess.  [JDreamily~\  The  walls  are  melting 
everywhere  away.  I  see  the  blue  sky  and  the  wav- 
ing trees.     It  is  the  Magic  Country  ! 

Otto.  Ah !  we  will  keep  it  so  for  ever.  For  us 
the  Magic  Land  lies  ever  round  the  World  of  Every 
Day. 

\_He  kisses  the  Princess 

Curtain 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE 


THE    WONDERFUL   ROSE 

This  tiny  play  might  be  arranged  with  very  little 
trouble  in  a  country  house. 

Setting.  An  old-fashioned  hall,  especially  if  it 
contains  a  staircase  and  a  wide  fireplace,  would  lend 
itself  admirably,  and  be  more  suitable  than  the  con- 
ventional, improvised  stage.  The  part  selected  for 
the  performance  should  of  course  be  separated  from 
the  audience  by  a  curtain,  and  a  row  of  footlights. 

Exits  and  Entrances  for  the  Performers. 
These  must  depend  upon  the  conveniences  the 
selected  "stage"  affords.  Rosamund  could  make 
her  first  entrance  by  way  of  the  staircase,  and  if 
there  should  be  no  door  on  the  opposite  side  which 
might  reasonably  be  supposed  to  lead  into  the  open 
air,  it  should  not  be  difficult  to  arrange  one,  with  the 
help  of  screens. 

The  Lighting.  Throughout  the  play  the  stage  is 
rather  dim.     The  light  of  a  big  fire  should  be  the 


138  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

chief  illumination,  and  the  footlights  should  be  kept 
low. 

Characters.  See  remark  under  this  head  in 
suggestions  for  the  Dream-Lady.  Rosamund  must 
possess  a  sweet  voice. 

Dress.  For  the  principal  characters  this  is  per- 
haps sufficiently  indicated  in  the  stage  directions,  but 
a  word  must  be  said  concerning  the  Spirits  of  the 
Spring.  They  must  look  as  ethereal  and  vision-like 
as  possible.  Some  should  be  young  girls,  others 
children.  The  girls  should  wear  trailing,  clinging 
robes  of  green  gauze,  each  one  of  a  different,  but 
harmonising  shade  of  green.  There  need  be  very 
little  "making"  in  these  robes.  First  should  come 
a  long  narrow  under-dress  of  green  silk  or  sateen, 
falling  straight  from  the  neck.  Over  this,  gauze  or 
net  of  the  same  colour  should  hang  loose,  like  a 
cloud.  The  arms  should  be  bare,  but  long  falling 
"angel"  sleeves  might  be  just  fastened  at  the  wrist, 
to  give,  when  the  arms  are  outstretched,  the  effect  of 
wings.  Some  of  the  children  might  wear  short  nar- 
row garments  of  soft  white  muslin  or  silk,  hanging 
straight  to  the  knee.  Most  of  the  Spring  Spirits 
should  carry  flowering  branches  (very  realistic  ones 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE  139 

are  to  be  bought  at  many  London  shops).  Some 
might  wear  garlands,  others  bundles  of  flowers  in 
their  hair.  Hints  as  to  poetical  costumes  of  this 
kind  are  to  be  gathered  from  Walter  Crane's  charm- 
ing Florets  Feast.  The  great  thing  to  be  remembered, 
is  that  dressmaking  should  be  sedulously  avoided. 

Music.  The  musicians  (violinists,  if  possible) 
should  be  concealed  from  the  audience.  This  can 
easily  be  managed  by  the  help  of  a  screen.  A  gallery, 
if  there  should  happen  to  be  one  in  the  hall,  would 
of  course  be  the  best  of  all  places  for  music. 

The  Vision  of  Spring  needs  careful  management, 
and  must  be  treated  as  poetically  as  possible.  Unless 
you  are  prepared  for  a  little  trouble  it  will  be  best 
merely  to  keep  the  stage  rather  dim,  and  not  to 
attempt  effects  of  lighting  which  will  probably  prove 
unsuccessful.  The  following  remarks  therefore  are 
made  on  the  assumption  that  the  lighting  is  in  skilful 
hands,  and  has  been  rehearsed.  I  would  suggest, 
then,  that  at  the  first  appearance  of  the  Spring 
Spirits,  the  stage  should  be  dim.  They  should  be 
seen  as  vague  shapes,  some  stealing  down  the  stair- 
case, others  silently  crowding  through  the  door. 
Then  the  light  should  gradually  increase,  till  at  the 


140  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

end  of  the  song  they  stand  brightly  illumined.  It 
should  disappear,  and  all  the  figures  be  left  in 
shadow  when  Mistress  Merrow  enters,  and  once 
more  the  light  should  touch  them  while  they  stand 
singing  the  last  verse.  Is  it  necessary  to  remark 
that  no  pantomime  effects  of  coloured  fire  should  be 
employed?  The  light  should  seem  that  of  white 
sunshine. 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE 


CHARACTERS 

Mistress  Champney  (a  neighbour).     The  Prince. 
Rosamund  (her  daughter).  Mistress  Merrow. 


Scene.  —  A  big  kitchen  in  a  farmhouse,  with 
quaint  settle,  high  dresser,  etc.  Afire  burns  on 
the  hearth,  beside  which  is  a  spinning-wheel. 

Beside  the  fire,  knitting,  sits  a  portly,  com- 
fortable  woman.  She  wears  an  ample  skirt 
of  homespun,  a  kerchief  folded  on  her  breast, 
and  a  frilled  cap. 

A  knock.  She  rises  and  goes  to  door. 
Enter  another  woman,  dressed  in  long  cloak 
with  hood. 

Mistress  Merrow.  Good-evening,  neighbour. 
It 's  a  cold  night.  I  did  not  think  to  have  a  guest. 
Sit  thee  down.      Sit  thee  down  and  warm  thyself. 


142  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

[She  bustles  about,  evidently  anxious  to  please  the 
nezucomer] 

Mistress  Champney.  Ay !  'T  is  a  cold  bleak 
night.  But  when  a  body  has  to  bake  and  brew,  wash 
and  mend,  and  keep  the  house  straight,  evening's 
the  only  time  for  gadding.  But  I  come  here  on 
business,  neighbour. 

Mistress  Merrow.  Business  or  no,  you  're  kindly 
welcome,  Mistress  Champney. 

Mistress  Champney.  [Peremptorily]  Then  once 
for  all,  good  Mistress  Merrow,  will  your  daughter 
marry  my  son  Hodge,  or  will  she  not? 

Mistress  Merrow.  Ah !  have  a  little  patience ! 
Would  that  I  could  make  her  !  The  girl 's  clean 
daft.  Her  head  is  full  of  whims  and  fancies.  Why 
did  I  put  green  ribbons  on  her  sleeves  when  she  was 
christened!     She  is  bewitched!  —  bewitched! 

Mistress  Champney.  Bewitched  or  no,  she  '11 
have  to  give  my  Hodge  an  answer  in  a  week, 
else  he  shall  marry  Jeanneton,  the  woodman's 
daughter.  She  is  a  comely  wench ;  she  'd  make  him 
a  good  wife,  and  I  would  see  Hodge  settled. 

Mistress  Merrow.  [Wringing  her hands]  What 
am  I  to  do?  What  can  I  say  to  the  mad,  doting 
maid  ?    To  think  of  that  good  mill !     To  think  of 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE  143 

all  those  chests  stuffed  full  of  silver  things  !  To  think 
she  might  be  mistress  in  the  house,  —  have  good  gold 
pieces  in  her  pocket  — 

Mistress  Champney.  [Haughtily]  And  where- 
fore does  she  scorn  my  Hodge,  this  girl  without  a 
penny  to  her  name? 

Mistress  Merrow.  Oh,  she  is  crazy, — crazy, 
neighbour !  You  '11  mock  at  her,  as  I  do.  For 
whom  think  you  she  waits  ?  The  Prince  will  come, 
she  says  !     The  Prince  will  come  ! 

Mistress  Champney.  [Bursting  into  derisive 
laughter]  The  Prince  !  the  Prince  !  Well,  Hodge 
is  spared  a  madwoman  to  wife.  No,  no,  neighbour. 
That  is  too  good  a  joke.     I  cannot  swallow  it ! 

Mistress  Merrow.  Listen !  I  hear  her  foot- 
step on  the  stairs.  Hide  here  with  me,  and  you 
shall  judge.  [She  draws  Mistress  Champney  out 
of  sight,  behind  the  high  settle] 

Enter  Rosamund,  humming  a  song.  She  is  a  slender., 
pretty  girl  dressed  in  a  peasant's  costu?ne  of 
dark  woollen  stuff.  Her  bodice  is  of  velvet, 
above  which  is  a  square-cut  chemisette  of  white. 
Her  hair,  tied  with  gay  ribbons,  falls  in  two 
plaits  down  her  back.      On  her  head  is  a  little 


144  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Dutch  cap.  In  the  bosom  of  her  dress  is  a 
beautiful  red  rose.  She  sits  down  at  the  spin- 
ning-wheel, and  sings  while  she  turns  it. 

Ah,  Magic  Rose, 
When  will  you  rest 
Deep  in  the  heart 
Of  him  I  love  best  ? 

Rare  Magic  Rose, 
Swiftly  unfold ; 
Show  him  your  heart 
Is  purest  of  gold. 

Dear  Magic  Rose, 
When  will  he  see 
All  he  is  seeking 
Simply  means — thee? 

Ah,  Magic  Rose, 
Grow  tall  in  his  heart ; 
Ope  your  red  leaves  ; 
Bid  folly  depart. 

Bring  me  my  Prince 
Ere  this  day  close, 
That  we  may  share  thee, 
O  Magic  Rose ! 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE  145 

[She  rises,  lights  a  candle,  and  half  draw- 
ing  the  curtains,  places   it  on  a  table 
near  the  window 
[As  the  two  women  come  forward  before 
she  turns  from  the  window 
Mistress    Champney.    [Mockingly]      Give    you 
good  evening,  my  fine  lady  Rosamund !     A  pretty 
song,  no  doubt,  if  one  had  wit  to  fathom  it.     When 
you  marry  Hodge,  my  lass,  you  'd  better  sing  of  pigs 
and  poultry.    'Tis  all  he  '11  understand,  I  warrant  you  ! 
[Rosamund  starts    when  the  woman   ad- 
dresses her,  and  stands  silently  leaning 
against  the  table 
Mistress     Merrow.    [Angrily]      Tell     Mistress 
Champney   why  you  light  the  candle,  girl !     She  's 
slow  to  credit  all  your  folly. 

Rosamund.  [Deliberately]  The  sky  is  dark.  I 
put  it  there  to  guide  the  Prince,  if  he  should  come 
to-night. 

Mistress  Merrow.  [Turning  to  her  neighbor/?-] 
What  did  I  tell  you  !     Now  do  you  believe  ? 

Mistress  Champney.  [Sarcastically]  You  've 
seen  the  Prince,  no  doubt. 

Rosamund.  [Simply]  Yes,  and  once  spoken  with 
him  near  the  palace,  when  he  went  a-hunting. 


146  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Mistress  Champney.  And  he  will  come  again  to 
woo  a  simple  peasant  girl,  of  course.  It  is  the  way 
of  princes  ! 

Rosamund.  [  Very  simply']  Yes  ;  he  will  come. 
Sooner  or  later  he  will  come. 

Mistress  Merrow.  And  if  your  mother  may 
make  bold  to  ask,  how  do  you  know? 

Rosamund.  Because  he  seeks  the  Magic  Rose. 
I  have  it.  It  is  mine.  Sooner  or  later  he  will  seek 
it  here. 

Mistress  Champney.  [Turning  to  Mistress 
Merrow]  'Tis  true  the  Prince,  who  seems  as 
crazy  as  this  girl  of  yours,  has  left  the  palace  now 
a  whole  long  year,  and  goes  for  ever  searching 
over  hill  and  dale  for  something  —  Heaven  knows 
what ! 

Mistress  Merrow.  The  Magic  Rose !  The 
Magic  Rose  indeed !  And  you,  girl,  say  you  have 
it.     Show  it  us  ! 

[Rosamund  takes  the  rose  from   her  breast 
and  holds  it  out 

Rosamund.    Here  !  though  you  cannot  see  it. 

Both  Women.    Her  hands  are  empty  ! 

Rosamund.  \Shaking  her  head  sadly. ~\  Can  I 
help  it,  if  to  you  it  is  invisible? 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE  147 

Mistress  Champney.  [Turning  to  Mistress 
Merrow]  Farewell,  good  neighbour.  I  am  sorry 
for  thee.  My  children  are  not  mad,  and  Heaven  be 
praised,  say  I  !  Victuals  and  drink  in  plenty ;  a  fine 
silk  gown  o'  Sundays ;  a  good  honest  husband,  — 
that  contents  my  Margot,  and  I  render  thanks 
for  't. 

Mistress  Merrow.  [As  the  other  woman  draws 
the  hood  of  her  cloak   over  her  head  and  prepares  to 

go-] 

[Aside  to  Rosamund]  Ungrateful  girl !  Have  n't 
I  slaved  for  you  and  for  your  future,  morning,  noon, 
and  night  —  and  now  you  ruin  all ! 

[To  Mistress  Champney,  in  ingratiating  voice-] 
One  moment,  neighbour !  The  night  is  dark.  I  '11 
take  the  lantern  and  go  with  you.  On  the  road  we  '11 
have  more  talk  about  this  matter.  The  girl  will  have 
more  sense  —  [She  takes  the  lantern  and  follows  her 
neighbour,  turning  at  the  door  to  throw  an  angry 
glance  at  her  daughter  before  she  goes  out] 

[Rosamund    sighs,   crosses    room   to    the 
hearth,  and  sitting  on    the   settle  looks 
into   the  fire 
\_A  knock.     She  starts,  goes  to  the  door,  and 
opens  it 


1*8  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

[A  young  man  in  the  dress  of  a  poor  hunts: 
man  sta?ids  on  the  threshold 

Rosamund.  [Stepping  back,  exclaims  below  her 
breath]     The  Prince ! 

Prince.  [Looking  at  her  in  astonishment]  The 
Prince  ?  [  Glances  at  his  dress]  How  do  you  know 
me,  pretty  maiden? 

Rosamund.  [Hesitating]  Will  you  come  in? 
.  .  .  [He  enters.  Rosamund  is  still  confused  ]  Oh, 
Sire,  it  is  common  talk  amongst  your  people  that 
you  have  left  the  palace,  to  seek  — 

Prince.  [Dreamily]  The  Magic  Rose  —  the 
Magic  Rose. 

Rosamund.  You  are  faint  and  weary.  Sit  here, 
my  Prince,  and  I  will  fetch  you  wine.  [She  brings 
a  flagon,  and  pours  out  wine] 

Prince.  Thanks  for  your  kindness,  gentle  mis- 
tress.    [He  looks  dreamily  into  the  fire] 

Rosamund.  [  Watching  him]  This  Magic  Rose, 
my  Prince  ?     What  is  the  Magic  Rose  ? 

Prince.    Ah !  if  I  only  knew  ! 

Rosamund.    Why  do  you  seek  it  ? 

Prince.  [Still  looking  into  the  fire]  Because 
't  is  said  it  brings  strange  happiness.  They  say  that 
with  its  owner,   Beauty  walks  as  a   familiar  friend. 


THE   WONDERFUL   ROSE  149 

They  say  this  dull,  cold  earth  grows  sweet  with 
flowers.  They  say  bright  visions  come  and  blot  away- 
all  the  sad  dreariness  of  daily  life. 

Rosamund.    And  so  you  seek  this  rose  ? 

Prince.  Yes,  for  without  it  everything  seems 
vain. 

Rosamund.  [In  low  voice]  Yet  if  you  saw  it, 
like  as  not  you  'd  pass  it  by  unnoticed. 

Prince.  [Turning  his  head  sharply]  Ah!  your 
voice  brings  memories.  Let  me  see  your  face  ! 
Come  nearer,  to  the  firelight. 

[Rosamund  goes  slowly  to  the  settle,  and 
sitting  down  by  the  Prince  looks  at  him. 

Prince.  \_In  amazement]  You  are  the  girl  I 
talked  with  long  ago.  Till  then  the  Magic  Rose 
was  never  in  my  thoughts.  [Eagerly]  Tell  me  ! 
Tell  me  now  —  what  is  your  name  ?  You  would 
not  tell  me  when  we  wandered  in  the  forest. 

Rosamund.    [Slowly]    My  name  —  is  Rosamund. 
[Prince, gazing  at  her,  takes  her  hands,  and 
they  rise  together 

Prince.  [Softly]  Is  it  indeed  the  Rose  —  the 
Magic  Rose? 

Rosamund.  Did  I  not  say  you  'd  pass  it  by 
unnoticed  ? 


ISO  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Prince.    \_Overjoyed     and    almost     incredulous'] 
Yes !      It  brings   the   visions !     Winter  reigns   out- 
side this  firelit  room.     A  moment  since  'twas  winter 
in  my  heart.    A  miracle  has  happened ;  it  is  Spring  ! 
[A  twittering  of  birds  is  heard.     Music 
fills  the  air.     The  door  opens,  and  slim 
figures  in  filmy  green  crowned  with  blos- 
som and  carrying  blossoining  branches  fill 
the  room.     They  sing,  while  the  Prince 
stands  with  his  arm  round  Rosamund 

Winter  is  past; 
Enter  the  spring. 
Hark  to  the  music 
Of  linnets  that  sing  ! 

Blossoming  trees 
Against  a  blue  sky, 
Soft  rushing  wind 
Through  the  treetops  high. 

In  the  heart  of  the  Prince 
Spring  finds  a  nest, 
Over  his  wanderings, 
Finished  his  quest. 

[The  Prince  draws  Rosamund's  head  on 
to  his  shoulder 


THE    WONDERFUL   ROSE  151 

Joy  shall  be  his 
Wherever  he  goes, 
For  see,  on  his  heart 
Blossoms  the  Rose. 

[The  music  dies  softly  away,  and  the  figures 
step  back  into  the  dim,  unlighted  part 
of  the  room 

Enter  Rosamund's  mother.    She  pauses  on  the  thresh- 
old in  surprise. 

Mistress  Merrow.    Who  is  this,  daughter? 

Rosamund.  Mother  !  —  the  Prince  !  See  how 
the  Spring  has  come  into  our  little  room  !  [She 
points  to  the  shadowy  figures] 

Mistress  Merrow.  [Looking  round  angrily] 
What  do  you  mean,  girl?  There  is  nothing  here 
but  leaping  shadows  from  the  fire.  The  Prince  ?  A 
pretty  Prince,  indeed  !  A  peasant  rather,  you  should 
say. 

Prince.  [Smiling  as  he  empties  his  wallet  of  gold 
pieces]  Here,  good  mother.  Now  you  '11  know  the 
Prince  ! 

Mistress  Merrow.  [Staring,  then  curtseying 
low]     Oh,    Sire  !    forgive   me.     [Glancing  at    her 


152  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

dress]     And  I  in  this  poor  gown  !     Wait,  wait !  I  '11 
come  again.     [She  hurries  to  door  Z.] 

Rosamund  .  [Shaking  her  head  sadly  as  she  points 
to  the  spirits  of  the  Spring]     She  does  not  see. 

Prince.  [Taking  the  rose  from  her  breast  and 
holding  it  between  them]  No,  she  never  sought  the 
Magic  Rose. 

[The  Spring  spirits  gather  round 'them,  sing- 
ing very  softly 

Even  the  saddest  hours 
Draw  to  their  close  ; 
Hidden  amongst  them, 
Perchance,  is  the  Rose. 

Curtain 


IN   ARCADY 


IN    ARCADY 

No  scenery  of  any  kind  is  necessary.  In  Arcady  can 
be  played  at  one  end  of  a  big  drawing-room,  with  just 
a  curtain,  and  if  possible,  a  row  of  footlights  to  sepa- 
rate the  "stage"  from  the  audience. 

Music.  The  thin,  faint  music  of  a  harpsichord 
would  greatly  help  the  dream-like  effect  of  the  danc- 
ing figures,  and  it  is  essential  that  the  singer  of 
Colin  and  his  lady-love  should  possess  a  clear  voice, 
so  that  the  words  may  be  distinctly  audible. 

The  Watteau  shepherds  and  shepherdesses  should 
of  course  be  represented  by  children. 


IN  ARCADY 

Scene.  —  A  drawing-room.  Curtains  divide  it  into 
two  parts,  back  and  front.  In  the  back  draw- 
ing-room stands  a  cabinet,  containing  china 
figures,  miniatures,  etc.  Doors  R.  and  L. 
When  the  curtain  rises  the  stage  is  dark. 
Door  R.  opens  cautiously,  and  Dick,  a  boy  of 
nine,  appears,  a  lighted  ca?idle  in  his  hand.  He 
is  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  his  hair  is  rough;  he 
carries  his  shoes  in  his  hand.  He  peers  into 
the  room.  In  a  moment  door  L.  opens  with 
equal  caution,  and  Sylvia  enters.  She  is  a  little 
younger  than  Dick.  She  is  in  her  dressing- 
gown.  She,  too,  carries  her  shoes  in  one  hand, 
and  a  lighted  candle  in  the  other. 

Dick.     [In  a  whisper]     Sylvia  !     Is  that  you  ? 
Sylvia,    f  In  answering  whisper]     Yes.     I  'm   so 
frightened.     Turn  on  the  light. 

[Dick  obeys.     The  children  blow  out  their 
candles 


158  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Sylvia.    What  time  is  it? 

Dick.  \Glancing  at  clock~\  Ten  minutes  ta 
iwelve.  I  say,  the  back  stairs  creaked  like  anything. 
Did  yours? 

Sylvia.  Yes,  and  there  was  an  awful  noise. 
I  thought  it  was  lions  at  first,  but  it  was  papa 
snoring. 

Dick.  When  I  passed  Frauleins  door,  she  was 
snoring  too,  but  hers  was  like  cats.  I  say  !  of  course 
your  silly  dream  won't  come  true. 

Sylvia.  But  lots  of  them  have  come  true,  have  n't 
they?  Do  you  remember  the  apple  dream?  And 
the  dream  about  the  bird's  nest,  and  — 

Dick.  Yes,  I  know,  that 's  the  funny  part.  That 's 
why  I  've  kept  awake  all  this  horrid  long  time.  Now 
tell  me  once  more,  right  from  the  beginning,  and  then 
we  shall  know  exactly  what  to  do.  Don't  think  I 
believe  it,  though ;  I  'm  not  such  a  muff ! 

[  The  children  sit  on  the  sofa  together 

Sylvia.  I  've  told  you  lots  of  times  already,  but 
I  '11  say  it  again  if  you  like.  I  dreamt  last  night  that 
the  shepherdess  lady  in  the  cabinet  —  the  one  in  the 
pink  dress,  you  know  [^pointing  in  the  direction  of  the 
caoinef]  —  came  and  stood  beside  my  bed,  and  she 
was  crying  and  sobbing.     So  I  said,  "  What  are  you 


IN   ARCADY  159 

crying  for?"  and  she  said,  "Because  I  'm  always  on 
the  top  shelf,  and  Colin  's  always  on  the  bottom  shelf, 
and  we  can  never,  see  one  another."  Oh,  Dick  !  she 
was  crying  dreadfully  — 

Dick.  Yes,  go  on.  Never  mind  about  the  howl- 
ing.    What  did  you  say  ? 

Sylvia.  I  said,  "  But  the  key  of  the  cabinet  has 
been  lost  for  years  and  years.  What  can  I  do?" 
And  she  said,  "Wait  till  to-morrow  night.  Then 
press  the  knob  underneath  the  writing-table,  and 
you  '11  find  a  secret  drawer,  and  —  " 

Dick.    Well,  we  can  try  that.     Come  along  ! 

[They  run  to  writing-table.     Dick  kneels 
down  and  feels  underneath 

There  is  a  knob ! 

Sylvia.    Press  it  hard! 

[Drawer  flies  open 

Dick.    Is  it  there? 

Sylvia.  [Exciledly\  Yes !  Yes !  A  dear  little 
key  with  a  green  ribbon. 

Dick.     Let 's  look !   So  it  is. 

[They  go  back  to  sofa 

Dick.  Well,  that  came  true,  anyway.  Was  n't  it 
exciting  ?       Go  on.  What  next  ? 

Sylvia.    Well,  then  she  said,  H  To-morrow  is  Mid- 


160  SIX    FAIRY    PLAYS 

summer's  Eve.     Wait  till  twelve  o'clock,  and  then 
unlock  the  cabinet  and  put  me  beside  Colin." 

Dick.  It  is  Midsummer's  Eve  ;  I  looked  it  out  in 
Fraulein's  calendar.    But  what 's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ? 

Sylvia.    Fraulein  says  it 's  a  great  fairy  night. 

Dick.  Fraulein's  an  awful  rotter.  \_Doubtfully\ 
Still  — 

Sylvia.  I  must  make  haste  and  tell  you  the  rest, 
or  else  it  will  be  twelve  o'clock.  Well !  she  said, 
"  Put  me  beside  Colin,  and  then  go  into  the  front 
drawing-room,  and  draw  the  curtains,  —  and  you  '11 
see  ! " 

Dick.    I  don't  believe  there  '11  be  anything  to  see. 

Sylvia.    Then  why  did  you  come  down  ? 

Dick.  \Confused~\  Oh  !  just  for  fun.  \Eagerly\ 
I  say,  it 's  five  minutes  to  ! 

\They  cross  the  room  to  cabinet,  and  look 
through  the  glass 

Sylvia.  I  wonder  if  all  the  other  shepherds  and 
shepherdesses  are  her  friends  ?  If  so,  they  '11  be 
awfully  pleased  when  she  meets  Colin  again.  Won't 
they  ?  \_In  a  whisper]  She  really  begins  to  look  a 
little  bit  alive,  don't  you  think  so,  Dick  ? 

Dick.  Rot !  .  .  .  I  say,  Sylvia,  I  've  always 
wanted  to  look  at  those  miniatures,  have  n't  you  ?    It 


IN   ARCADY  161 

will  be  awfully  exciting !  They  're  stuck  away  so  far 
at  the  back,  you  can't  see  them  properly. 

Sylvia.  The  little  girl's  my  great-great-grand- 
mother, is  n't  she  ? 

Dick.  Yes.  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  frock  in 
your  life ! 

Sylvia.  Well!  Look  at  your  little  great-great* 
grandfather.  Fancy  a  boy  wearing  lace  ruffles  !  But 
they  're  rather  pretty.  I  wonder  how  you  ?d  look  in 
lace  ruffles,  Dick? 

Dick.    \Scornfutty~\     Don't  be  so  silly. 

Sylvia.  They  married  one  another  when  they 
grew  up,  didn't  they? 

Dick.  Yes.  Granny  told  me  they  were  brought 
up  together  in  the  same  house,  just  like  you  and  me. 

Sylvia.  And  he  was  called  Dick,  and  she  was 
called  Sylvia.  ...  I  say,  Dick,  they're  on  separate 
shelves,  too.  Perhaps  they  would  like  to  be  together. 
Shall  we  move  them  ? 

Dick.    Yes,  if  you  like. 

Sylvia.  I  suppose  we  shall  marry  one  another, 
when  we  get  grown  up,  sha'n't  we,  Dick  ? 

Dick.  It  depends  how  you  behave  yourself.  If 
you  're  not  a  little  silly,  and  always  do  what  I  tell  you 
—  perhaps  — 


162  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Sylvia.    Hush !     It 's  going  to  strike  ! 

[The  clock  strikes  twelve.     Dick  puts  the 
key  in  the  cupboard  and  opens  it 
Dick.    [In  a  loud  whisper]     You  move  the  shep- 
herd and  shepherdess,  and  I  '11  put  your  great-great- 
grandmother    beside    my    great-great-grandfather  — 
So! 

Sylvia.  [Pulling  Dick's  sleeve]  Now  we  must 
come  and  draw  the  curtains ! 

[The  children  come  forward  and  pull  cur- 
tains across,  concealing  the  cabinet 

[Faint  music  begins,  the  curtains  part,  are  pulled 
back,  and  a  procession  of  little  Watteau  shep- 
herds and  shepherdesses  enter,  two  and  two, 
stepping  in  time  to  the  music.  Behind  them 
follow  a  boy  and  girl  about  the  same  age  as 
Dick  and  Sylvia,  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  their 
great-grandparents. 

TJie  children   sit  on  the  sofa   with   clasped 
hands,  staring. 

Dick.  [In  a  whisper,  as  the  last  two  figures  enter] 
Sylvia,  do  you  see  who  they  are  ? 

Sylvia.  Yes.  My  great-great-grandmother  when 
she  was  a  little  girl !     Oh,  Dick  ! 


IN   ARCADY  163 

Dick.     And  my  great-great-grandfather  ! 

\The  boy  and  girl  stand  together  opposite 
the  sofa  on  which  Dick  and  Sylvia  are 
seated,  the  boy  with  his  arm  round  the 
girl.  The  shepherds  and  shepherdesses 
stand  in  groups,  as  though  talking  and 
laughing.  The  pink  shepherdess  is  in 
front.  "  Colin  "  kneels  and  kisses  her 
hand. 

Sylvia.     There  's  the  pink  shepherdess  lady  ! 

Dick.  And  that 's  Colin  !  Don't  you  remember 
his  crook,  and  the  flowers  on  his  waistcoat  ? 

Sylvia.  The  others  are  all  their  friends,  I  suppose. 
I  told  you  they  'd  be  glad  ! 

Dick.    Hush ! 

[A  voice  which  seems  to  come  from  the 
distance  sings,  while  the  pink  shepherdess 
and  "  Colin  "  stand  as  though  talking, 
Colin  with  his  arm  round  the  shep- 
herdess 


Colin  and  his  lady-love 

Step  across  the  years  ; 

They  have  bade  farewell  to  grief, 

Dried  their  china  tears. 


164  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

In  the  land  of  Arcady, 
Where  the  skies  are  blue, 
And  the  sheep  are  fleecy  white, 
They  will  live  anew. 

There  upon  the  emerald  grass 
They  will  sit  and  sing, 
While  the  snowy  china  lambs 
Gaily  round  them  spring. 

Colin  in  his  satin  coat, 

Phyllis  with  her  crook, 

Laugh  and  pipe  and  dance  and  play 

By  the  babbling  brook. 

For  the  land  of  Arcady 
Knows  no  grief,  no  fears  ; 
Colin  and  his  lady-love 
Step  across  the  years. 

\The  shepherds  and  shepherdesses  dance 
The  Girl.     [  To  her  companion,  when  the  dance 

is  over]      Dick  !     I  vow  you  must  believe  me  for 

the  future.     See !     They  have  come  to  life,  just  as 

my  dream  foretold. 

The  Boy.     I  '11  warrant  it,  Colin  will  marry  the 

little  shepherdess. 

The  Girl.     When  we  are  men  and  women,  Dick, 

shall  we  be  married  ? 


IN   ARCADY  165 

The  Boy.     Faith,  sweetheart,  if   your  behaviour 
pleases  me  when  I  'in  a  man,  I  '11  think  on  it. 

[Music  of  a  minuet  is  heard 
The  Girl.     Pray,  Dick,  dance  with  me. 
Sylvia.     Dick !      We  know  this.     We  had  it  at  the 
dancing  class  last  week  ! 

[The  children  slip  off  the  sofa,  and  join  in 
the  minuet.    Just  before  the  end  of  the 
dance,  the  china  figures  two  and  two  pass 
behind  the  curtain  which  the  first  couple 
araw  aside  just  far  enough   to  enable 
them  to  go  through.     The  boy  and  girl 
also  silently  leave  their  places  and  follow 
the  procession.    For  a  moment  Dick  and 
Sylvia    go    071    dancing  in   the   empty 
room. 
Sylvia.     [Looking  round  her  after  a  deep  curtsey 
and  speaking  in  a  puzzled  voice  as  she  rubs  her  eyes~\ 
Where  are  we,  Dick  ?     Why  are  we  dancing  ? 
Dick.     [In  a  dreamy  tone]     I  don't  know. 
Sylvia.     [Still  sleepily]     Light  the  candles  again, 
and  let 's  go. 

.  [Dick  obeys.  Sylvia  yawns]  It 's  so  funny !  Did 
you  say  just  now  we  should  marry  each  other  when 
we  grew  up  ? 


166  SIX   FAIRY   PLAYS 

Dick.     \_Still  dreamily]     Faith,  if  your  behaviour 
pleases  me  when  I  'm  a  man,  sweetheart  — 

[Sylvia  goes  slowly  towards  one  door, 
Dick  towards  the  other.  He  turns  out 
the  light  as  he  goes.  The  stage  is  dark 
except  for  the  glimmer  of  the  candle  which 
each  holds 
Sylvia.  \_At  the  door  at  which  she  entered ;  very 
sleepily]  Good-night,  Dick! 

Dick.     [Also  sleepily']    Good-night,  Sylvia ! 

[They  go  out  simultaneously,  each  closing 
the  door 

Curtain 


